


Close encounters of the unbelievable kind

by NighthawkWV



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Cryptozoology, Military, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 76,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27595325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NighthawkWV/pseuds/NighthawkWV
Summary: What happens when two old Army buddies on a classified mission encounter something that shouldn't exist?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story was originally authored by yours truly back in 1994 (with a lot of editorial assistance from my wonderful wife).  
> Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely—intentional! (only names changed)  
> Cut, Jimmy, Kelly, LT...you guys know who you are!

Dark! _Too damn dark_! Starless sky, no moon and misty rain. _Perfect_! Buck don't seem to mind. For a hundred-sixty pound German Shepherd he sure knows how to be comfortable. Strange, his training was more extensive and in-depth than my own, yet he can take it all in stride. _Maybe he is right, I should try to sleep and think about how all of this started and how I ended up here_.

#####

John F. Kennedy Special Warfare Center, Fort Bragg, North Carolina.  
Serving with 3rd Special Forces Group had been the best two years of my life. I had excelled in weapons and tactics, and earned my 3rd dan black belt in record time. Though none of it would really be my savior in the next few weeks. No kind of training could prepare anyone for what I would encounter.


	2. Day 1

**Day 1**

The P.A. boomed, "Sergeant Riggin, report to the Captain's office!"

 _They can't mean me_. I wasn't even off base this weekend. Randy and I had stayed at the enlisted club Friday and Saturday. _Oh, well_! I probably deserved it anyway.

The walk across the parade field was hot, long and filled with the sounds of drill. _God, there is nothing like the Army_ , I thought, watching the Battalion of 82nd Airborne prepare for a retirement. They moved with ease and grace, brought on by all that training. _Beautiful_!

I walked the steps that had the Railroad-Track insignia over the door and entered.

"Go in, Chase. He's waiting." The First Sergeant was always right to the point.

The Captain wasn't alone, and I tried unsuccessfully to conceal a curious squint at his two guests. Hard-faced characters, wearing fancy dress suits which didn't really seem to fit into the scenery. _Spooks, no doubt_. _Well, there goes the neighborhood_!

Supo didn't give me any more time to ponder the issue. "Sergeant Riggin," he started, "this is Agent Harless and Agent Micheals...Agents, this is Sergeant Chase Riggin."

Two firm handshakes and a salute, then we were seated at the Captain's desk. Supo's eyes were unreadable, kind of a blank stare.

 _Oh, shit_ , was my immediate thought.

"Sergeant Riggin," Agent Harless took the initiative, "let me get straight to the point. We are with a, uh...specialized Government Agency, and would like you to come to work for us. Of course, you would still officially be in the military. Just consider it a detail. And perhaps even a promotion might be in line."

The Captain leaned back, crossing his arms, intrigued but not concerned. Not yet!

I pulled up an eyebrow. "What's the detail?"

"It is confidential until you actually accept," Agent Micheals snapped.

"How can I accept without knowing what you want me to do?" I shot back.

Agent Micheals jumped to his feet, as did I, ready for anything that might look like aggression.

 _I don't like this guy_! _Not at all_.

"Calm down, George!" Harless barked. "We need him."

"We don't need a _questionable_ Green Beret," Micheals sneered.

"He is the only qualified man left. Unless you want to try it?" Harless was clearly getting on edge.

Captain Supo intervened. "How about a compromise, gentlemen?"

Harless sighed, "Okay, let's talk. Sergeant, this conversation stays in this room, understood?"

"Yes, Sir!" I answered sharply.

"Good. Listen carefully and hold your questions until later, all right?"

"Yes, Sir!" I repeated, this time halfheartedly.

"Back in September last year, a surveillance jet was flying at twenty-one-thousand feet over a wilderness area of southwest Washington State. A regular training mission for all intents and purposes. The eight crew members were well experienced, and had flown together on a number of missions. While doing testing on the infra-red tracking system, one of the crew observed three large, very large images. Two were consistent with bears or large elk, the third, however, was not. It was bipedal and chasing the other two."

"You mean it was on two legs?" I gave him a skeptical squint.

"I said hold your questions, Sergeant," Harless snapped.

"Yes, Sir!" I replied between gritted teeth.

"The images were tracked for three miles until the plane had to recover to base for fuel. Interested in the report, the Commander of Fort Lewis sent a training- and engagement-team to the last position of the images. They never returned. Seven men, MIA for nearly a year. So much for military! Three months ago the President finally ordered our agency's involvement, to find out what happened. Our five-member team has not reported back for over a month. Whereabouts unknown. That's where you come in." Harless' eyes squinted and glared a hole through my head. "Sergeant Riggin, we want you to find them."

"Why me?"

Micheals cut in, "You were raised in the mountains, know your way around, to survive, and do what it takes to accomplish the mission. Your military record confirms you are one bad mother in the field."

"Pretty high praise for an old country-boy from West-by-God-Virginia," I smirked.

"Don't be so modest." Harless regained the floor, eyeballing Micheals. "Twenty-three confirmed close quarter combat kills, seven combat jumps, two Bronze Stars, one Silver Star, Survival Instructor, Weapons Expert...You are what we need to get in and get out."

My turn again. "I have a couple of questions first, if that's okay?" I received a nod from Harless, expressing caution. "First, why not send the surveillance jet back up? Second, why not send a larger recon team with better commo? And third, who's my back-up?"

Harless winced noticeably as he responded, "One, been done. Two, don't want to lose any more men. And three, none."

"Sounds like fun," I grinned.

Micheals seemed slightly off balance. "The Commander of 7th Infantry Division at Fort Lewis has been advised to provide you with transportation and adequate gear for the excursion. And you would, of course, have our agency's full support."

"I see!" My grin widened. "And just what does that support consist of?"

"Anything you might require, other than personnel," Harless hastily answered. "We have assembled a complete file on the matter, including detailed topographical maps and all available reports." He slid a thick manila envelope across the desk. "But the President strongly feels that we cannot afford to expend any more men."

"Aside from an old grunt like me, right?"

"It wasn't..."

"Sergeant!" Captain Supo cut in sharply. "What Agent Harless meant was, any more men who aren't really trained for this kind of undertaking."

Harless flashed Supo a thankful glance. "Yes! That is correct," he hooked the extended lifeline.

"All right!" I ran my fingers across the large envelope and resolved to quit pushing the issue. "Only one more question...what exactly am I looking for?"

After a good ten second pause and a lot of uneasy looking around, Micheals slowly answered. "We don't know."

Swallowing the grin this time, I nodded cordially. "I'll be needing a few things, Agent Harless. I'll have a list for you in the morning."

"Whatever you need, Sergeant. " He sounded relieved. "And familiarize yourself with the information in the file so we can also address any further questions you might have."

Rising from my chair and shaking hands again, I locked eyes with Harless and noticed the sweat running off his brow. He was hiding something, I could feel it.


	3. Day 2

**Day 2**

2 a.m. So much for sleep! _Might as well look at some of them stats_. Unrolling the supplied field-maps on the table brought back lots of memories. I had been stationed at Fort Lewis for two years, and found the area to be a near paradise for hunting Whitetail. Incidentally, this trip would take me rather close to a small township by the name of Paradise. Scanning through the pages of the enclosed report, I smiled. My supposed target area had an even more familiar ring to it—the Tatoosh Wilderness. _Maybe the camp is still there_? _Would be nice_. _Well, enough of that_. _One more beer and three hours of sleep, I'll be good for a week_.

Sleep never came, so I made changes to my list. _Harless is gonna love_ _this_!

0700 hours, military time, Captain Supo's office.

Harless frowned as he went over the list. "Heckler and Koch MP5K, Lorans T-1000 satellite tracker, five-hundred rounds nine-millimeter ammo, merc tipped," he browsed. "Wait a minute, you want your dog?"

"Yes, Sir. He's very special."

Captain Supo explained, "That dog is more highly skilled and trained than all of us put together. If someone is out there to be found, he'll find them."

"Isn't that dog under arrest and impounded?" Micheals asked.

"Yes, Sir, but not willingly," I smiled.

The Captain again enlightened the agents. "He was arrested for catching a criminal. Because he bit right through the man's hamstring, he's considered dangerous in a public environment. Bullshit! Should have bit his head off."

"Is this animal safe?" queried Micheals.

"Just don't look him in the eye," I replied. "He gets real offended."

"So why does he like you?" Harless wanted to know.

"Because he tried to bite me, and I knocked out four of his baby-teeth."

"I see! Anyway, why do you want a ten-gauge Bullpup shotgun with a twenty-round drum?" Micheals sounded sarcastic.

"It's like this, Sir, the gentleman who's coming with me isn't much for long range. He likes it close, and that's his preferred weapon aside from a KA-Bar."

Captain Supo squinted incredulously. "You're not calling Cut, are you?"

"Too late, Sir, he's already on his way up there. Oh, don't you worry, folks. He's real secretive and don't talk to anyone. But he's the best I know in a firefight. Wouldn't want to be in a spot with anyone else."

"Oh, shit!" the Captain thought out aloud. "Not again!"

Harless and Micheals exchanged a wary glance, but neither of them chose to comment.


	4. Day 4

**Day 4**

The flight to Seattle was okay. Picking up Buck was a trip, he is always a little 'out-of-it' after traveling in the cargo-hold. But he calmed down once I treated him to three Cheeseburgers and extra large Fries, and the wait at the arrival-hall was great.

Cut, being a six-foot-four 'Okie', stands out in most any crowd. Being two-hundred-thirty pounds of muscle, hardheadedness and stubborn, makes him his own crowd. But if you were cold in a blizzard he would give you the shirt off his back. Some kind of a guy! I met him ten years ago while in a bar-fight in Columbus, Georgia. He had been playing bouncer in the joint, and had thrown out a couple of jerks for being drunk and obnoxious. No problem, except those two had returned an hour later and brought a few of their 'just-as-bad' friends back with them. Now, two- or three-to-one I could have watched, but six-to-one just wasn't fair. So after evening the odds a little, we had cleared the bar and stayed drunk for two days. Been best friends ever since.

He walked up, half smiling, seeing Buck first. _That's the smile_. Those two are two of a kind. Both would save a baby from a burning building, but rip out a man's throat if he pushed too hard. _You gotta love 'em_. _Scary and hairy_. _This trip is already too long_!

Transportation to Fort Lewis had been prearranged and the drive was enjoyable, even though it rained—as usual. After getting the hassle of the check-in at 7th Infantry Division CQ over with we were on our way. Switching off after the first hour of driving, Cut settled comfortably into the passenger-seat of the Dodge Pick-up we had been supplied with. So far our conversation had merely revolved around small-talk and reminiscing about the 'good ol' times'.

I knew Cut would come out with the question sooner or later. Still, it lasted until we reached our drop-off point, where we had to abandon the truck and set out on the one-hour hike to our final destination, before he couldn't stand it anymore.

"You never did tell me yet where we actually goin', Chase. You know, when you called I wasn't real ready."

"We're supposed to find out what happened to a dozen of city-boy pussies who got lost," I informed him, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

"Where?"

"Up there!" I rolled my eyes toward the narrow path, leading uphill.

"Oh!" He squinted into the dense mist, wafting among the trees. "Think the cabin's still standin'?"

"We'll see. The target area is only three miles from it."

He flashed me a delighted grin. "Did you leave them five cases of Bud up there?"

"Of course!"

"Well, hell," Cut's grin widened, "this ain't gonna be so bad. C'me on, Buck!"

"Some kinda trip this could turn out to be. I'n see it now," I mused, reaching for my gear. "Cut, you might need this." I tossed him the Bullpup.

"You don't forget much, do you?"

"Nope! Can't afford to."

#####

The cabin still stood, sturdy, unharmed by time and elements, and apparently unused since our last visit. Cut made it his first priority to check on the beer supply, while Buck didn't hesitate to get comfortable on his favorite bunk, heedless of the fact that he was soaking wet. I quietly shook my head, bit back a snide remark, and took to the task of getting a fire started.

"Alright," Cut popped the tab on a can of warm Bud Light, "I'm ready to go to work."

"Get that manila envelope out of my ruck, " I said, fanning the damp kindling in the fireplace. "You'n look through that stuff till I get this shit going here."

"Is that all you got?" he queried when he pulled out the papers and spread them across the small camp table.

"Yup! And as far as that report goes...by the infrared scope's gauges we're talking about a guy, seven-foot-six, eight-hundred pounds, and runs about thirty-five miles an hour for three miles."

Cut cast me a quizzical sideways glance. "You don't think it's that Sergeant Major we had for Battalion in Germany, do ya?"

"I sure hope not," I laughed. "But I ain't real concerned about a bug-eyed radar operator's imagination either. I'm more concerned about where twelve bodies are, or if any of 'em are still alive. Best thing we can do is start at the grid and work out. Buck knows what he's here for. He'll find 'em...dead or alive."

Cut's solemn expression is always scary, especially when he is quiet. "What do you think, Chase?"

"I don't, man, it hurts my head. Besides, we'll know more in the morning. We just ain't got enough to go on right now. The only contact with the second team was just regular check-ins. There is something I don't get though..."

Cut's eyebrow went up. "What's that?"

"Well, if the second team was CIA or FBI, wouldn't they be carrying pilot locators on at least a couple of them?"

"Yeah!" He gave me another one of those looks. "I's just thinkin' the same thing. And there's somethin' that caught my ass, too. All those agents, luggin' a load of heavy firepower…even their carry weapons are straight outa hell. You'd think at least one of 'em could make it here. They _had_ to see that cabin on their way in."

"This whole thing bugs me," I mused, loading another hunk of oak on the fire. "By the way, how's that big-game guide-service in Montana doing?"

"Ain't worth a shit, Chase. Damn bleedin' heart animal-rights people, don't understand a man's need to get back to his roots. They keep fuckin' up my clients' hunts. Come close to whoppin' a couple of 'em last year, but the Governor wouldn't let me."

"Too bad! Well, the fifty grand you're getting for this trip oughta help," I smiled.

Cut returned the smile. "You didn't have to do that."

"Hell, it ain't my money. Now get some sleep."


	5. Day 5

**Day 5**

0500 hours—Buck was up early, as always on these trips. Something was different about him though. Nothing was noticeable up front, but just the same, he seemed weird. Kind of nervous. _That makes me uneasy_. _Maybe it's just anxiousness or maybe I'm just_ _getting paranoid_. _Anyway_... Coffee was on, Buck was looking for a tree, and the work was about to begin.

"Looks like they might have crossed here," Cut said, kneeling by some obscured trail when I caught up with him.

"How many?"

"A bunch. Five or six...maybe seven. Real sloppy walkin', whoever they were. They're heavy and slow. Sure ain't gonna get far like that."

"Okay, Cut, let's move on to the target and get a good look around. Maybe we'll find some answers up there." _Not likely_ , I thought as I moved toward the ridge.

"Buuuck!" _Where the hell is that dog_? "Cut, have you seen Buck?"

"Nope! Just found this between some rocks over by that little creek. Looks like your boys really been here. There's one thing else, Chase...

"What's that?"

"The clip's full. It ain't been fired, and there ain't no tracks, no gear, no equipment, no nothing."

"Man, do you know what this is?"

"Yeah! It's a pistol, and an expensive one," he answered defensively.

"No, you don't get it. This is a _customized_ forty-cal SIG Sauer, P229 Nitron Compact. I don't think someone would just lose it. That's a mighty fancy piece to be carrying, lookin' for lost children. These guys were serious."

"Yeah, seems like."

"See if you can find anything else. Any kinda sign of a firefight, a fistfight...anything."

"On my way. Don't go far, Chase. Somethin's wrong here, real wrong."

"Just find those bums and let's go. Stay on channel twelve, and I'll see you in about five klicks on top of that ridge."

"Got it! Stay in touch!"

#####

Scanning the ground with one eye and keeping the other up ahead, I moved quietly toward my objective, an outcrop of rocks. _Maybe Buck's gonna show up and keep_ _me company_. _Damn dog, probably off ballin' a bitch wolf in a cave somewhere_. _Yeah, that would be Buck_.

There was something ahead, I sped up my pace. _Can't see in this mist_. _What is_ _that_? The closer I got, the more obscured it seemed. _What is this_? I reached down and picked up what was left of a field rucksack. Ripped to shreds, almost like a razor had sliced it. Very clean cuts in four or five places and empty. _Maybe a bear? Nah_! _The black bears around here don't bother nobody_. _Straps are gone too, but it's new issue_.

Running my hand through the cargo pockets, I pulled out a lone item. _Can-opener_! _Knowing these pansies, they_ _packed oysters and caviar instead of MREs_. _I'll take it with me_.

I met Cut at the top. He was already there, and a bag full of bad news. A quick inventory turned up two standard issue M14s without their magazines, one more SIG with a full extra clip, a flashlight, a can of oysters— _I knew it!_ —and a pilot locator, crushed like an empty beer can and its antenna snapped in half like a twig.

The walk back was silent.

"What you gonna tell 'em?" Cut asked, never looking up from the fire.

"Who?"

"The Suits."

"Oh! Nothing yet. We ain't done here."

"Chase, those guys are dead. You know that. Let's pack it in and call it MIA."

"What's up with you?"

"What do you mean?" Cut was getting defensive.

"I mean, I never saw you so spooked. You okay?"

"It's just, with all this shit layin' around there should've been a struggle, a firefight, or at least some bodies. There's nothing, man. Nothing out there! It's like they just been swallowed up. No tracks, no sign. Somethin' ain't right, and that scares the shit outa me."

"Come on, Cut. _You_?" I squinted dubiously. "Man, I've seen you wade head-on into a company of AK-47 fire and never even flinch. This ain't like you."

"That enemy I could see, Chase," he muttered. "This one..." He left the sentence unfinished and side-tracked. "I hear that dog outside. Better let 'im in before he eats the door. See ya in the morning."


	6. Day 6

**Day 6**

"Find anything?"

Cut shrugged nonchalantly at my inquiry.

 _Stupid question anyway_. If he had found something, he surely would have told me. This whole situation was really beginning to annoy me.

We had returned to the target area at daybreak to look around once more. Maybe there was something we missed. _Anything!_ Twelve guys couldn't simply disappear into thin air, or could they? They had been here, so much was for sure. All the junk we found—even the dumbest city-bum wouldn't be ignorant enough to simply lose something like that SIG or an M14. But what really bothered me was the way Buck reacted when I let him get a scent of the rucksack I had come across. He no sooner stuck his nose to it when he backed up, growling, and the hair along his back standing straight up.

"What's the matter with him?" Cut had frowned. "The only time I seen 'im act like that was when you tried to feed him them biscuits your ol' lady made."

We laughed about it, but actually it wasn't funny at all.

"Shit," Cut mumbled between his teeth, "I wish Jimmy was here. He'd sure find 'em."

"Who?"

"My cousin, Jimmy...Whitehorse," he added since I still had a blank look on my face.

"Oh, the Chief?" I grinned as understanding set in.

"Yeah! He's the best tracker I've ever seen."

I gave him a quizzical smirk. "You gotta be kiddin' me. He's deaf as a doorknob."

"Yeah, but he could track a flea across a buffalo's ass," Cut snapped back irritated.

I flinched. "Sorry! Didn't mean to offend you."

He merely shrugged me off and went back to looking around. This wasn't going well at all. We were both getting on the edge, and to argue over trivial stuff sure didn't help.

"Look," I sighed, "I'm sorry. But we don't have time to wait for someone else to..."

"Why not?" he interrupted. "We ain't gettin' nowhere with this. You know, I don't like to admit when I'm beat, but this shit really got me."

"So what do you suggest?"

"We go back down and I'll fax Jimmy. It'd only take a day or two for him to get here. What we got to lose? Ain't nothin' here today that ain't gonna be here tomorrow."

"All right!" This time I was the one who shrugged. "Guess we could bring up some more beer too, on the way. Looks like we'll be here a while."

"Now you're talkin'!" At least he grinned again.


	7. Day 9

**Day 9**

Another wait at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. We didn't talk much. Didn't have to. Seemed each of us knew exactly what the other was thinking, and neither of us cared to admit that this thing was over our heads.

Jimmy arrived with the first flight the next morning. No way overlooking _that_ guy in a crowd. Six-foot-seven, full-blooded Arapaho, and an intense look in his jet-black eyes like he had just come off the warpath somewhere. I had met him once before during a visit with Cut's folks down in Oklahoma. He still wore that bear-claw necklace I admired so much. Tried to jew him out of it at our first meeting—hell, I even offered him my most prized possession—my H&K 93A3 Assault Rifle—for it, but he wouldn't give it up.

Cut grinned from ear to ear as they shook hands. "You remember Chase?" he asked and signed at the same time.

Jimmy nodded down to me with a gesture that looked like a salute.

"Good to see you again, Chief." I saluted back, and frowned at Cut because he started laughing.

"He just said _hello_ ," my friend informed me.

 _Damn sign-language_ , I thought. _Never could understand any of it_.

It seemed Chief had the easier part. He could read your lips—at least as long as he looked at you.

Buck had no problem with it whatsoever. He just kind of purred in delight when Jimmy bent down to scratch him behind the ears. So much for being _my_ loyal sidekick!

"What?" I queried, glancing over at Cut and somehow getting the feeling that this had been a bad idea. Chief might as well have been speaking Chinese, since I had no clue what he had just signed toward me.

"He was wondering if that's the little pup you brought along three years ago."

"Sure is," I answered, and Buck rolled over to get his belly rubbed.

"Hate to break up the reunion," Cut grinned, "but we're burning daylight."

"You must've been watching them old John Wayne movies again."

"Nothin' like the Duke and a cold one after a hard day's work," he mused.

Jimmy's eyes moved back and forth between us, and I wondered how much of our friendly little bicker he could make out, since we spoke quite rapidly.

"Did you tell him what this is all about?" I got back to the problem at hand.

"Thought I'd do that on the way back up. Didn't want to put anything in the fax that might work against us later," Cut grumbled, adding something in signs for his cousin.

" 'Preciate that! Well, we better get going...hey, Chief!" He looked at me when I touched his shoulder. "Welcome to the party!"

Apparently he understood, considering he nodded and for the first time—as far as I could remember—actually smiled.


	8. Day 11

**Day 11**

"Think he'll find anything?" I asked, watching Jimmy as he carefully moved toward the ridge.

"If there's anything to _be_ found. But why are you whispering?" Cut sneered

"Hell, I don't know!" I snapped, aggravated because I realized he was right. _Stupid_ , I thought. Jimmy was looking away from us, and wouldn't hear me even if I screamed on top of my lungs.

Cut had explained the situation to him the night before, along with the circumstances under which we found the discarded—or lost, or whatever—equipment. Chief asked no questions, just shifted a curious gaze between Cut and me. Only when Buck showed the same reaction as before toward the rucksack, he seemed surprised.

Speaking of the dog, here we go again. _Where is he_? I cussed quietly between my teeth.

"Chase?" Cut mumbled.

"What!

"Did you ever think we might be better off _not_ findin' anything?"

I shrugged, not wanting to admit that such a thought had crossed my mind.

"You know," he continued, "it ain't so much bein' concerned about what happened to them city-boys. Just pisses me off that this thing's gettin' the best of us."

"Know what you mean," I agreed.

"Damn, Chase, it's just like trackin' that twelve-point buck you shot up here that time. No blood, no tracks, no nothin'."

"Don't start, Cut. I hit him! Watched the arrow go right into his chest. For all it's worth, he shouldn't have even flinched. That was a dead-on hit."

"Hell, don't get defensive," he muttered frustrated. "It was just a comparison. You say you shot 'im, I never said you didn't. Just kinda got somethin' like a flashback since it's the same area."

"Well, forget about it. Where did Jimmy go?"

Both of us looked around, then at each other.

"What the...?" Cut swore under his breath.

We quickened our steps and hustled toward the ridge. Jimmy had been only about fifty yards in front of us, now he was nowhere in sight. I suppressed the urge to call for him. Wouldn't do any good, he couldn't hear it anyway. There was a cold chill at the back of my neck, and Cut wore a rather strange expression on his face.

"Wait a minute. What's that?" Something had caught his eye. He bent down to move some leaves out of the way. When he straightened and turned around, white as a ghost, holding up what he had found, I suddenly felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

Jimmy's bear-claw necklace! It seemed completely intact, except for one broken link in the front, between the two middle claws.

Deadly silence, as the two of us stared at the snapped ring in the chain. A low growl from behind, and the familiar scent of a wet dog told me Buck was back. But he stopped a good four or five yards short from our position.

Cut turned, walked over, the necklace in his hand, and bent to a knee so Buck could sniff.

The dog backed up, head low, hair raised, and every tooth in his mouth bared. The reaction was clear— _Get it away from me!_

"What the fuck?" Cut scolded. "This ain't right. Jimmy ain't no city-boy and he sure as hell ain't no ghost."

"Split up. You head to that ridge and work toward the draw. I'll go up the other side and meet you at the top," I said, stepping across the shallow creek bed.

"Keep a finger on the trigger," Cut cautioned low.

#####

The mist was starting again. _What the hell is going on here_? This was all wrong. It shouldn't happen like that. No sign, nothing. Walking along the creek bed, I noticed a piece of something on a branch snag. _Looks like a shred of plaid shirt_. _Same as Chief's_. _I'm getting close_. _I can feel it_! A sound—a branch broken.

Running to the top and splitting the ridge like a young Ranger Cadet, I was barely in time to see a shadow pass over the top. I took off again, running hard, then suddenly stumbling.

"Damn!" _It's gone_. _Man, was he fast_. _What did I trip over_?

A large pile of leaves at my feet drew my attention as it appeared to quiver. Crouching, the MPK locked and cocked in my right, I brushed away the top-layer of foliage and encountered a bewildered stare from a set of pitch-black eyes. But at least he was breathing and, save for a golf-ball-size knot on his head and a gash on his chest, Chief seemed okay. Still— _How did he get here, and what was that going over the ridge_? _Behind me_! A sixth sense spun me around, bringing the MPK into Cut's face, right between his eyes.

"Whoa, partner, it's me!" He threw his hands up.

I exhaled a sharp breath.

"Jimmy alright?" he asked, gingerly pushing the barrel off to the side.

"Guess so, but he seems really out of it."

Cut squatted down, placed a hand on his cousin's shoulder, and nearly landed on his rear when Jimmy snapped up in a flash.

"Easy, man!" Cut grabbed Chief's arm. "Put that goddamn knife away. You gonna end up hurtin' somebody."

Chief merely stared blank for a moment, then shook his head, squinted painfully, and returned the Bowie to his belt .

"Better get him back to the camp," I suggested. "I think all three of us got just about enough for one day."

"No shit, Sherlock!" Cut grumbled, helping Chief to his feet.

#####

Back at the fire, an immediate discussion started but took on a somewhat bizarre pattern. Jimmy signed, Cut translated, and I—well, I tried to think and put it all together in a rational manner.

"Jimmy says, he don't know what happened. Says he was readin' some sign, then the lights went out. Next thing was, looking up from the ground and seein' your ugly face."

"Did you say he was reading sign?" I asked, ignoring the last part of the statement and pouring another cup of coffee.

"Yup!" Cut replied.

"What kind? We were all over that area."

"Footprints," Cut answered. "The reason we ain't been findin' nothin' is real simple. The son-of-a-bitch that knows what really happened up here is barefooted."

"Huh? Are you nuts?"

"I'm just tellin' you what Jimmy says."

"I think maybe he's spent too much time in the sweat-lodge," I gave back scathingly.

"Sit on it an' rotate it, Chase," Cut related Chief's next gesture with a shit-eating grin.

"Okay, smartass, so if the only witness is a barefoot, who and where is he?"

The answer was delayed because Chief's attention turned toward the door. Buck was home again. Could have smelled him from a mile away.

"Damn, you stink! Go dry off, you cock-hound," I snapped at the dog.

Showing me his sarcastic snarl, he strolled in. But only half way.

"What's your problem, Buck? Get in here."

Chief quickly signed something to Cut.

"Jimmy says he won't. He smells somethin' that scares him."

"Buck, scared? No way!"

"Watch!" Cut relayed what Jimmy motioned, getting up.

With each slow step toward Buck, the dog backed up, showing more teeth.

"What the...?" I frowned.

Jimmy removed his clothes and pitched them into the fireplace. As soon as they were in flames and Chief had changed into a fresh outfit, Buck came in and laid down.

"So what did he smell, Jimmy?" I started with the questions again.

"Whatever it was that carried him to the ridge...wait a second!" Cut broke his translation in mid-sentence. "You're saying you were _carried_?"

Chief responded with a somber nod.

"No way! You're six-foot-seven and almost two-hundred-sixty pounds. Would take one hell of a man to carry you straight uphill, but somethin' unnatural to do it that fast and with no sound. Are you _sure_ you were carried?"

Another nod, accompanied by an irritated squint.

"Let's get back to the footprints," I broke into the argument. "Tell me about 'em, Chief."

What he now signed and Cut translated didn't make any sense—at least not to me. But I realized, he was serious. Dead serious!

"He's over seven foot, judging by the branches broken overhead. Over five-hundred pounds by the impressions on the ground, and very, very agile, considering the logs he hurdled."

"What the hell's he talking about, Cut?"

"A myth," he answered, scratching his head. "A century-old legend to the Natives all over the US. He's talking about Sasquatch."

"You mean Bigfoot?"

"Yeah, I mean Bigfoot."

"Horse-shit, Cut!"

"Well, it's all there. How else you gonna explain it, Chase?"

"So I guess you two heroes believe in UFOs too, huh?" I sneered aggravated, knowing Jimmy understood since I intentionally spoke toward him.

The expected reaction failed to appear though. He merely flashed me a punitive glare, then abruptly broke the eye-contact and stretched out on the cot, hands behind his head.

 _Guess that's his way of saying "End of discussion_! _"_

"Way to go, Chase!" Cut scolded. "Really did it this time."

"Kinda touchy about the subject, ain't he?" I grinned.

"Look, man, maybe I should've warned you 'bout that. Jimmy is really into his native beliefs. You know, Great Spirit, medicine power and that stuff. He don't take no bad jokes about it."

"Oh, come on," I chuckled. "This isn't the twilight zone."

Cut gave me a hesitant shrug. "Yeah, well," he drawled, "but there's still some things you can't explain naturally." He glanced over at Jimmy who was staring up at the cobwebs in the log ceiling. Seemed he had bent the link in his necklace back together, because he was wearing it again.

 _Weird, I didn't even notice until now_.

"You know," Cut interrupted my thought, "this might sound stupid, but I think there's really somethin' to that whole spiritual stuff."

I cast him a contemptuous look and didn't say a word.

"Like that necklace," he continued, for some reason lower than before. "Jimmy's convinced that the power of the bear protects 'im, as long as he wears it. That's one reason why he'd never give it up willingly."

"What's the other?"

He hesitated, an uneasy expression on his face. "Better ask 'im that yourself. Ain't sure he'd appreciate me telling you."

I rolled my eyes derisively. "What a bunch of bull! I bet you my last dime, I could snatch that thing right off his neck while he sleeps, just like I did..."

"Don't even think about it, Chase," he cut me off, almost worried now. "Look, I know you're good...best I've ever seen, flyin' through that Ranger and Special Forces training. Hell, you saved my ass so many times, I lost count." He grinned ruefully. "But, Chase, don't underestimate Jimmy. He makes up for not hearing in ways you and I couldn't even _begin_ to understand."

"Alright," I mused, still sarcastic, "so why did he get caught then by that...well, whatever it was?"

"Don't know," Cut admitted. "That's why I kinda believe he's right about what it is. I never seen a person, human anyway, that could sneak up on him from behind...or when he's asleep for that matter."

"Please don't tell me he sleeps with his eyes open." I glanced over, and Jimmy was still staring straight up.

Cut just shrugged indifferently.

"And I thought only _we_ did that," I laughed.

"Nah!" He grinned crooked at last.

"Great!" I sighed. "Just remind me not to invite him over my house for a night. My ol' lady still throws a fit when I do it."

"Come on! You been married what...ten years by now? Figure she'd be used to it."

"Not after we scared the shit out of her that time. Remember?"

"Yeah," Cut chuckled at the memory. "Must've been a pretty sight. Both of us stone-drunk, passed out on the living room floor, snoring the plaster off the ceiling, and staring up at 'er." He shook his head. "Had some good times though, didn't we?"

"Sure did, man."

"Well, anyways, better get some shut-eye, too." He yawned and stretched. "Oh, and Chase..."

"What?"

"A little piece of advice. Don't never _ever_ touch 'im when he's sleepin'," he muttered with a furtive nod toward Chief.

"Wonderful," I sneered. "Boy, what a team! Two trigger-happy war veterans with flashbacks, and a deaf Indian with a sixteen-inch Bowie knife, ready to scalp you if you look at 'im wrong."

"Yeah," Cut laughed, "what a trip!"


	9. Day 12

**Day 12**

"Okay! We start from the spot where I found you yesterday," I directed, looking at Jimmy. "Cut, you take the left, I go right, and Chief stays between us. Circle down and around the ridge, we'll meet on the other end at the draw." I pointed out the directions on our map, mainly to rule out any misunderstandings.

Jimmy nodded and motioned something to Cut.

"He says, make sure you look up, too. There were a lot of broken branches over head, that's what he was goin' by yesterday."

I rolled my eyes in resignation. "Whatever!...Oh, and Chief," I caught his arm before he turned away, "here, you might need this." I pitched him the .40 caliber. "You know how to use it?"

 _Guess so_ , I answered my own question when he ejected the magazine, cleared the breech, reloaded the SIG himself, all in one nice, fluent move, and then signed with an impish grin.

"Says he'd like to have that extra clip for it," Cut informed me, grinning as well.

"Knew I had that, didn't ya?" I smirked and tossed the requested item over to him.

#####

It seemed we made the three miles in record time by now. Maybe just because the area was starting to feel like our own back pocket. To my surprise, Buck stayed right at my side this time. He never even flinched when we reached the spot where Jimmy had somehow ended up yesterday. _Bigfoot_... _crap_! There had to be another explanation here, I had thought about it all night. Sure, there was a whole bunch of weird shit going on, but that supernatural stuff was simply a little too farfetched for my taste. I decided to keep this opinion to myself, however—at least for now.

The rain started again. This area stayed wet, I think 364 days out of the year. _Pain in the neck_! _It is pretty, though_. _Lots of trees and mountains_. _Much like back home, only higher_.

I lost my thought when Jimmy stopped and looked back at me, obviously puzzled. "What's the matter, Chief?"

"That's strange," Cut relayed the signed response. "He says, there ain't nothin' here."

"What do you mean? I thought he found Bigfoot tracks yesterday?" I snapped derisively.

"Well...yeah...but they're gone now."

"Damn you two! What about the broken branches?"

Jimmy shrugged, pointing up.

"Don't even bother!" I waved Cut off before he could say anything. "Let's just circle around as planned, and keep your eyes on the ground...unless you believe that your Bigfoot now grew wings and flew away." Shaking my head in exasperation, I left both of them standing there and started on my designated route.

Buck hesitated and growled.

"Oh, shut up!" I snapped at the dog. "What? You been smokin' some of that stuff Jimmy rolls? Shit, Buck, I got enough trouble with them two ghost hunters. Don't you go stupid on me again, too."

I wasn't sure later whether I was simply too pissed off to really pay attention, or what caused me to so completely overlook the obvious. A shot! _Damn, that was Cut's_ _Bullpup_. I turned, chasing back up the ridge in break-neck speed. _Where is he_? _Come on, ol' man_ , _don't do this to me_.

I stopped, looking around and catching my breath.

Buck pulled up beside me. He was actually trembling. Fear or anger, I wasn't sure but I had never seen him react like this.

Someone whistled softly. _Jimmy_? _Okay, what now_? He was only a few steps away from me, sitting on the ground, a drawn expression on his face. I still couldn't see Cut anywhere.

Buck whined and strolled over to Chief.

"What's the matter? Are you all right?"

He shook his head and motioned toward his right leg. It seemed to be stuck in something.

"What the...?" I flinched when I got close enough to see.

His leg was caught in some sort of trap. I had never seen anything like it before. Not metal, just short, pointy wood-spikes, clamped into his calf directly above the combat boot. I had come across all kinds of nasty devices, even invented a few of my own, but this was a new one. It looked like something primeval.

"You know this is gonna hurt like hell," I said and thought, _figure it already does_ , at the same time.

Jimmy didn't react, only gritted his teeth when I pulled the spiked fangs apart. Hard to believe a shady construction like this could be so tough to open. It took a second effort, and Chief exhaled a sharp breath since I momentarily let up to get a better grip. He was bleeding pretty bad, but never flinched while I checked his leg.

"The bone is all right," I mused. "Think you can make it to the camp if I help you?"

He nodded.

"Okay, I'll take you back, then I have to find Cut. He fired a shot."

A questioning look, and he pointed over to his left.

"Yeah, but I just came around that way. Couldn't see anything. Here...that should work for now." I had sacrificed my Harley Davidson bandanna to wrap his leg. Scanty but efficient, at least for a short while.

"Don't worry," I grinned, helping him to his feet. "I did a Combat Lifesaver's Course three years ago. Seen much worse than this in practice."

He just rolled his eyes.

#####

This time it seemed like forever until we made it back to camp, and Jimmy was completely worn out by the time we arrived. He had lost quite a lot of blood and looked pale when he laid down on the cot. I hurried to re-wrap his leg properly, thinking that this medical kit badly needed restocked. It had been to a couple of combat zones with me, but somehow I had hoped we wouldn't need it on this trip. _Wishful thinking_ , I realized.

"You gonna be alright?" I asked, finishing the job.

Another curt nod for an answer.

"I'll leave Buck here with you. He's acting weird again. Drives me crazy."

Jimmy gave me a thoughtful squint, and whistled when I turned to leave.

"What?"

He sat up, took the bear-claw necklace off and held it up toward me. "You might need this."

My expression was probably not much short of idiotic. "Damn you, Chief! All that sign-language crap, and you can speak?"

"I'm just deaf, not mute, stupid!" He said it low, but quite clear and understandable.

"Well, thanks a lot, you jerk!" I wasn't sure whether to be mad or relieved. This certainly made the situation easier, but he had fooled me for quite a while too. I shook my head, thinking Cut must have known about this all along. _Boy is he gonna be in for it_... _when I find him that is_.

"Chase?"

"Yeah?" I drawled, putting on the necklace.

Jimmy merely looked at me, a somewhat anxious expression on his face.

 _Must've read my mind_. But I understood.

"I'll find him, Chief. I promise! Stay put and keep your eyes open. I'll be back before dark." I glanced down and ran a finger along the row of ten bear-claws, fitted in Sterling Silver with a turquoise stone in the middle of each. "Do they really work?"

He shrugged impassively. "I'm still here!" 

#####

 _Alright, let's think this through rationally here_. _What is going on_? I have been in all kinds of touchy situations before, but usually there was an easy explanation. There had to be something we were overlooking here. Tracks that are there one minute and gone the next—at least if I could convince myself to believe in that. And branches, first broken and then not? _No such thing_. Either Jimmy was hallucinating, or he and Cut were pulling a real bad joke on me. I was inclined to assume the first.

 _Anyhow_ , I thought, making my way back up the ridge for the umpteenth time. Cut had fired a shot, so there had to be some evidence, maybe an empty shell or something. He couldn't have been too far away, about fifty or sixty yards to the left from our starting point. _Damn, that fog and drizzle is getting on my nerves_.

I slowed my pace, getting closer to the area where he should have been. _Boy, finding a single shell here would be like_ _finding a needle in the haystack_. Leaves everywhere, but at least I could make out where Cut had come through. He still wore those old boots with the nick in the right heel. They had sure been to hell and back by now. _Kinda like the two of us_. I grinned to myself. The prints suddenly stopped, right in front of a low rock-ledge. _Okay_ , _now what_!?

I turned back and forth a couple of times. No tracks leading off to either side or any other direction. _Well_? _I still don't believe in UFOs, so where did he go from here_? _Wait a minute_... _what's that_? A flicker of something between the leaves caught my eye.

I stepped over and bent down. _Damn_! _He's been here all right_... _that's his dog-tags_. Always wondered why he still wore those things anyway, considering he had left the Army over a year ago. _Sentimental value, I guess_. But this sure didn't look good at all now. I glanced up and around. _Let's just assume for a moment that Chief had really seen_ _what he said he did, then there should be_... I exhaled a sharp breath and jumped to my feet. The big maple right next to me— _Geez_ , _he was right_!

Several of the smaller branches were snapped at the ends, about a foot and a half over my head. And the edges were still fresh. _So what about tracks_? I returned my attention to the ground. _Gotta be something_...

A rustling sound, not far behind me—spinning around again—nothing. _Shit_! _I'm slowly but_ _surely losing my mind over this_. _Getting so edgy, I might just shoot somebody by_ _accident, if they walked up behind me_. _Calm down, Chase_! _Think_! _Damn, this is giving me a headache_.

I sat down on the rock-ledge and lit a cigarette, just to unwind for a minute. _Well, they might kill me, but so can a heart-attack, right_?

Trying to get my thoughts back together, _I still don't buy that Bigfoot theory, but_ _then what broke the branches, and who or what designed that crafty little trap Chief_ _stumbled into_? _Sasquatch with a hundred-eighty IQ_? This was only getting worse, the longer I thought about it.

I subconsciously flipped the dog-tags in and out of my hand, holding on to the chain. _Funny, how come the chain isn't broken_? _Like they'd just been pulled up over_ _Cut's head or_... _wait a minute_! _Chief said, something had carried him up the ridge_. _Carried in what way_? _Even if you're seven-foot-something and over five-hundred pounds, the easiest_ _way to lug two-hundred-sixty pounds uphill would be over your shoulder_. Great, now they have _me_ thinking in Bigfoot terms. Well, so far I haven't come up with a better explanation. _Alright, Mr_. _Sasquatch, let's just see if we can't reason this out_... I didn't get any further.

" 'Bout fuckin' time you showed up!"

I jumped to my feet, spun around, and dropped the cigarette when Cut hollered.

"Did you find that damn gun?" he barked, walking up beside me.

I merely stared him up and down, somehow beginning to believe in ghosts myself now. _Where'd he come from_?

"What the fuck you lookin' at?" he snapped. "Damn, Chase, that thing got a hold of me, I thought I'd be on my way to Jimmy's happy huntin'-grounds...where is he anyways?" Cut continued since I still hadn't blinked. "Hey!" An unfriendly jab from his elbow brought me back to my senses.

"Damn, Cut," I yelled at him, "where the hell have you been? What happened?"

"Like I said...man, gimme a smoke, I need it!" He plopped down on that rock.

"I had a little encounter with our mystery creature. Jimmy was right, Chase. I saw it!"

"Saw what?"

"Look, whatever it is...it's huge, strong as a bull, and smells like we used to after two months in the field without a bath. I don't know exactly what happened. Just heard somethin' behind me, turned, looked up and shot."

"Did you hit 'im?"

"Don't think so, 'cause the next thing I remember is wakin' up, buried in a bunch of leaves and my head hurtin' like after three bottles of Quervo." He timidly probed a spot of crusted blood in the hair behind his left ear. Glancing over at me like he expected me to say something, he noticed Jimmy's necklace. "Chase?" He regarded me with a dead-serious questioning look.

"Chief is okay. At least he was when I left the camp. He had a little encounter with a homemade bear-trap..." I explained what had happened, earning myself a doubtful frown. "It's right over there. Check it out. See what you think about it."

Another climb up the ridge, somehow it seemed to be getting higher each time.

"Oh, by the way...miss something?" I asked, holding up his tags.

"Yeah!" Cut grinned wryly and slipped them back over his head. "Still like to know what happened to my Bullpup though. Really bothers me."

"Maybe _he_ took it," I interjected. We looked at each other and suddenly started laughing.

"So what you're saying is," he chuckled, "we now got a Bigfoot with an IQ _and_ a shotgun to deal with? Wonderful! That oughta really make things interesting."

"No, shit! Just what we needed on top of everything. Well, look here." I knelt down when we had reached the spot where Chief got caught. Or at least I thought it was. "Wait a minute! What the...?"

I probably didn't have a real bright look on my face—wouldn't be for the first time today. "I know this was it." I scanned the ground. "Man, what the fuck is going on? I don't get it!"

"You sure it was right here?"

"Yes, damn it! I remember that goofy little patch of moss there. Looks like a nice set of hooters," I wisecracked, though not feeling funny at all. "But nothing is here now. No trap, no blood, no tracks."

"Maybe our friend keeps house like your ol' lady," Cut replied dryly.

"Knock it off!" I was getting irritated again, feeling stupid. "I give you the Bigfoot thing, but this? No way! There's got to be another explanation."

"Only one I can think of is, you're wrong about the area, and that would be a first."

"Well, I'm sure starting to have my doubts, Cut... So, what do we do now?"

"Don't know 'bout you, but I could definitely use a cold one and some chow," he announced.

I shook my head. "There ain't nothing that could ruin your appetite, is there?"

"Nope! At least I never seen anything yet that did."

"Okay! Guess we better check on Chief anyways," I consented. "Oh, by the way, I found out something real interesting too. Sure owe you one for that."

He looked over with a nasty smirk as we started back toward the camp. "So he talked, huh?"

"Yeah! Was mighty nice of you to fill me in on that. Thanks a lot!" I grumbled.

"Look, Chase, I'm sorry. But I promised to keep my mouth shut about it, alright?"

"I don't get it. What's the problem?"

"Why'nt you ask _him_ that," Cut shrugged, sounding frustrated now. "I'm just surprised he let you wear the bear-claws."

"Apparently he thought I might need them. Protection against evil spirits, you know."

"Only works if you believe in it, Chase. Jimmy knows you don't, and that's what bothers me," he mused. "He wouldn't even let _me_ borrow 'em when we went to Saudi."

"There wasn't no ghosts there either," I replied in dark humor. "Just a bunch of shell-shocked, half-crazy rag-heads."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Cut stopped in mid-stride. "This is like his personal medicine, or good-luck charm, if you know what I mean. He wouldn't give it up if you held a loaded and cocked piece to his head."

"So why did he do it now?" I questioned, still somewhat indifferent.

"Man, I'm serious. I think he knows somethin' more than we do."

"About what, Cut?"

He merely shook his head in disbelieve, and walked on without answering.

I quickly caught up with him. "Cut!

"What!"

"Suppose you're right, you and Chief both, so where does that leave us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if we're really up against what you two suggest, how do we deal with it?"

He stopped once more and gazed at me with that chilling solemn expression. "How should I know? Told you on the first day, we'd better pack up and go home. Told you we might be better off not findin' anything. But you were so hell-bent on figurin' out what happened to them city-boys...Damn, Chase, we're into this so deep now..."

"You want out, then _get_ out. I got a job to do," I snapped and left him standing where he was.

"Where you goin' now?" he called after me since I headed back up the ridge again.

"What do you care...Here!" I loosened the bear-claws from around my neck, tossing them over to him. "Give those back to Jimmy. They might do him more good than me."

"Stubborn son-of-a-bitch!" he cussed and came stomping up behind me.

I didn't feel much like grinning, but couldn't help myself. _Now who's being stubborn?_ Been this way between us since we first met. We would fight like pit-bulls, but neither one of us could stand to see the other pissed off for any length of time.

"Wait a minute, Chase." He pulled up beside me. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just that this whole thing got me on the edge. I ain't even sure _what_ I saw. Maybe I'm gettin' paranoid."

"Felt this way since we got here," I admitted, somewhat calmer.

"Look, man, we been through a whole bunch of shit together, you an' me. So far we've always come out with flyin' colors, even when things got too close for comfort."

I only gave him a crooked smile and he continued.

"Whatever is out there ain't pretty, believe me. But I'll eat my old boots before I let you run up against it alone. So whether you like it or not, you gonna have to put up with me till we got that thing whopped, okay?"

"Seems like I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Nope! Now can we get back and find somethin' that resembles food?" he grinned, handed the necklace back to me, and we changed direction once more.


	10. Day 12 (part 2)

**Day 12-2**

Back at the camp, Cut had barely set a foot inside the door when Buck showed the same erratic reaction as before. As soon as the dog moved, Chief was off his bunk, knife in hand, so fast, I didn't even have time to blink.

"Alright, settle down. It's just us." Cut grinned at his cousin. "You okay, man?" he asked since Jimmy's color resembled that of a faded brown bed sheet. He received a not very convincing nod in reply.

Buck was still snarling and crouched into the farthest corner of the hut.

"Shut up, Buck!" I snapped. "Cut, you better go change, before he completely freaks."

"Yeah," he laughed. "Good thing we brought enough clothes, eh?"

"Here, Chief." I returned the bear-claws. "Thought you might want these back."

"They work?" he asked.

"I'm still here!" I answered in his own words.

He grinned wryly, sitting back down on his cot, then motioned toward Cut. "Where did you find him?"

"Well, actually he found me."

"Good thing I did too," Cut smirked, pulling up a fresh pair of camo pants. "Ain't no tellin' what kinda trouble you might've ended up in. Runnin' around out there, head up your ass, like a lost pup."

"Hell, Cut, I wasn't the one who got lost, remember?"

"I wasn't either, man. Just… _misplaced_ …of some sort," he mused.

Jimmy appeared extremely thoughtful, shifting his eyes between us to follow the conversation.

"What?...Damn, Chief, don't start again. You can talk just fine if you want to," I snapped when he started signing.

"Wait a minute! What, Jimmy?" Cut waved me off and Chief repeated—at least I think he did— what he had said. "Got a point," Cut mumbled. "Look, Chase, he just thought of something strange..."

"Wouldn't doubt it," I sneered.

"No, seriously. Listen for a minute..."

"Okay?" I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms.

"Now listen," Cut repeated, "both me and Jimmy got caught by that thing, right?"

"Yeah?" I drawled bored, not comprehending where he was going with this.

"Think about it, man." He started to get impatient. "How come it didn't hurt us?"

I sat up, suddenly a little interested.

"It carried us off," Cut continued quickly, "buried us in a bunch of leaves, then left."

"So, what are you saying?"

"Not sure, Chase," he admitted. "But it almost seems like it was just trying to get us out of the way for a while, or somethin'."

"Out of the way for what?"

Chief signed again, and I gave him a frustrated look.

"Jimmy says, if he wanted to kill us, why didn't he do that first?" Cut relayed. "Why would you just knock out your prey, and have to worry about it escaping?"

"Hell, I don't know, Cut. Maybe he thinks a bit different than we do." _Great_! _Now we're starting to relate to that thing in 'person-terms'_.

"Just weird," Cut scratched his head. "Like when he got me, I wasn't completely out, you know. I could feel bein' picked up, and he did it real careful, almost like he was afraid to hurt me. Sounds stupid, I know," he added since I chuckled. "But, Chase, Jimmy says the same thing."

"Maybe you two just got knocked in the head a little too hard."

"That's what I'm tryin' to get through to you, dip-shit," Cut hollered. "Wasn't really that hard. Not even enough to completely knock us out. Hell, you hit me harder'n that over a swig of Beam, Chase."

I couldn't help but laugh, remembering the fight we had over the last mouthful in a bottle of Whiskey. Beating the daylights out of each other, until some smartass came up and drank it, right in front of our faces. He wasn't too happy about it later, though.

 _Anyway_! "Okay, Cut!" I put my mind back on the subject. "So what you two are saying is, this thing didn't intend to add you to his lunchbox? Just more or less removed you from the scene for a while?"

"Somethin' like that, Chase."

"Doesn't make any sense."

"I know that, but think about it, damn it. A guy, seven-foot-somethin', over five-hundred pounds? Shit, if he meant to knock you dead, it wouldn't take much more than a flick of his finger," Cut mumbled, opening a can of beer.

"Guess you got a point there," I consented. "So then what's the deal with it?"

Chief snapped his fingers to regain Cut's attention and signed.

I just watched, shaking my head. Apparently he only talked when he absolutely had to. _Don't know why, but I figure that's his business anyway_.

"Hey, Chase," Cut's eyebrow went up, "remember I told you, that Bigfoot thing is sort of a legend with the Natives?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, Jimmy says there are some real old stories and pictures where Bigfoot helps the Indians. You know, kinda protects 'em or so."

"Helps them with what?" I got up since Cut didn't bother to ask whether Jimmy or I would care for another beer. "Here, Chief." I held out one can, and because he was looking at Buck who had come over to get his belly rubbed, I tapped the can on the table. Not sure how, but it works every time.

"Thanks!" He grinned, popping the tab.

"Next time I'll make you get your own, if you don't quit with the sign-language."

"Shut up about it, Chase!" Cut grumbled between his teeth.

"Why? He can talk. Fooled me long enough as it is."

"Leave it alone, damn it!" Cut snapped back. "He'll talk if he wants to, and most of the time he don't. Just don't push it."

"Okay, okay, whatever!" Now I was getting defensive. "What about them stories you were talking about?"

"Well," he drew a long breath, "there's this one...a young Indian hunter got trapped, his leg caught under a falling tree. He laid there and couldn't get out, too far from his village for anybody to find 'im. He was close to dying, when this creature came. Huge, smelly, covered with hair, claws like a grizzly, fangs like a wolf..."

"Oh, get on with it!" I rolled my eyes.

"Anyways, the hunter thought for sure it would just finish 'im off right there and then, and he started to sing his death-song. But instead, the Bigfoot picked up that fallen tree like a toothpick and threw it off to the side. That Indian's leg was broken, so he couldn't get away. But then the Bigfoot picked him up, real gentle like, and carried 'im to this beautiful valley, no one had ever seen before. The Bigfoot took care of the Indian, brought him food, water, splinted his leg and so on. When he was healthy again he returned to his own people."

"Wonderful!" I sneered. "So what does that little fairytale have to do with us?"

"Well," he scratched his head, "maybe our Bigfoot here is kind of a Mister Nice Guy, like the one in the legend."

"I see! And I guess that means you believe this story?" I scorned.

"Jimmy does," Cut answered solemnly. "Look, Chase," he cut me off before I could open my mouth, "let's not get into a discussion about religious or whatever beliefs, okay? We got other things to deal with." He glanced around the camp. "I never did get nothin' to eat yet. What've we got left? Anything good, or just them damn MREs?"

Somehow I actually appreciated his obvious attempt to avert another argument. It wouldn't lead anywhere anyway, I knew. He and I had been there many times, having quite different beliefs and opinions, mine a little more 'down-to-earth'. But I guess sometimes things just aren't as simple as black and white—at least not in this case.

#####

"Cardboard shit!" Cut pitched the so-called cookie, he had pulled out of the MRE, across the room.

Buck got up and, as inconspicuous as he possibly could, strolled over. One sniff, a little nibble, and he started sneezing, wiping his nose with the front paw. We burst into laughter. The dog merely cast us an offended look and curled back up beside Jimmy's cot. Evidently he knew Chief still had that bag of Beef Jerky over there. He had been slipping him bites of it all afternoon. _Gonna spoil him rotten_!

I couldn't blame Buck though, he was only trying to make the best out of the situation I had drug him into. _Wonder sometimes how much he really understands_. _He is smart_. _Smarter than some_ _people I met, that's for sure_. But he is also his own person, ornery, stubborn and hard-headed as a bull. Yeah, I am still talking about the dog, though that description could fit any of us.

Cut was still cussing and rummaging for some more food, and Chief sneaked Buck another hunk of Jerky.

"Well," Cut mumbled from between a bite of fruitcake he had found, "what's your plan?"

"Don't really have one," I answered, assuming he was speaking to me. "Too late to go back out today anyways. Thought we try to come up with something smart tonight, and head back to the ridge in the morning. What you think?"

Jimmy looked somewhat lost since Cut had his back to him and my head was turned, so he couldn't make out what either one of us was saying.

"Sorry, Chief," I apologized as I noticed, then added, "we's just talking about what we gonna do next."

"Hey, Chase," Cut interjected, "I just thought of somethin'."

"What's that?"

"Well, we been up there five or six times by now, and never got any further than that ridge. Somethin' always happened and we had to go back."

"So, what do you suggest?" I asked.

"Thought maybe we oughta start at the other end this time. You know, walk backwards from the draw. Well, I don't mean actually backwards...ah, hell, you know what I mean."

"Suuure!" I laughed. "Boy, how many beers did you have?"

"Oh, kiss my ass!" he grumbled. "I'm tired, and I still ain't found nothin' that resembles real food. That fruit-cake tastes like somethin' out of a dumpster. We stay up here any longer, I'll go hunt me a deer or somethin'."

"You know, that's not a half-bad idea, Cut," I grinned.

"Are you nuts?" His eyes widened. "It's out of season. We get caught, we'd be in all kinda shit. Besides, my luck, I'd come across your ghost-buck and have to track him again."

"Here we go!" I rolled my eyes. "You never gonna let me live that down, eh?"

"Nope. Was just too good," he snickered. "Hey, Jimmy, did I ever tell you 'bout that?"

Chief grinned and signed a short reply.

" 'Bout a thousand times, he says. Too bad, it's a good story," Cut shrugged.

"And the way _you_ tell it, that buck gets bigger every time," I muttered. "Now can we get back to what we were discussing?"

"Done gave you my opinion. Whatever that's worth to ya."

"Chief, you got an idea?" I asked, then realized his attention was on Buck again. I broke the tab off my beer can and flipped it toward him.

His hand snapped up and he caught the tab in mid-air.

 _Damn_ , I thought, _impress me, why don't you_!

He hesitated for a moment when I repeated my question, then signed.

"He thinks maybe we should tackle the area from a whole different angle," Cut translated.

"Like what?"

"Well, we been over that three mile area with a fine-tooth comb by now. Figure we found everything there is to be found," he kept talking, simultaneously to Chief's signing. "Maybe we could come in from the other side, you know, further out, 'bout half a mile or so. Saw that little waterfall, feedin' the creek, didn't you?"

I nodded without interrupting.

"We could start from there, that is if we get past that ridge this time. Perhaps we oughta stay together, instead of endin' up havin' to search for one of us again. Well, what you think?"

"Sounds good to me. Hell, anything sounds good to me. But getting back on that hunting subject for a minute." I rubbed my forehead, starting to get a headache again. "Chief, you know that trap you stepped in was gone when I got back there?"

Jimmy stared at me in total disbelieve.

"There was nothing there. _Nothing_! No trap, no blood, not even our own tracks. Look, I know it sounds stupid, but somebody cleaned house up there."

"Yeah, like your ol' lady," Cut threw in. "I always was afraid just to put a butt in your ashtray. Was so clean you could eat out of it."

"You never seemed to mind that when you stayed over though."

"Hell no, Chase! That woman of yours is somethin' else. Purdy as a picture, but with a redneck attitude that'll put all of us to shame. She cooks like a chef, keeps house like a maid, takes care of you and the kids, and on top of all that she's the best damn Harley mechanic I've ever seen in my life."

"Yeah," I laughed, "if it wasn't for her, I'd rolled that bike into the creek a long time ago. She put it together from scratch and keeps it runnin' for me. Ah, I miss that thing!"

"What? Her or the bike?" Cut grinned roguishly.

"Yes!" I answered.

"She sure put up with a lot of shit from both of us," he mused, a little rueful.

"Alright, Cut, you're makin' me homesick. Knock it off, before I pack up and leave you both sittin' here with the damn dog."

"Hell, how you think _we_ feel?" he mumbled. "Jimmy just got married four months ago, and his girl's pregnant."

"Oh, man, I didn't know that. Why did you have him come out here then, Cut?"

He shrugged with a guilty expression on his face, and Chief added some signs.

"He says, that's okay. She understands, we gotta do this manly kinda thing. Besides, at least he don't gotta run to the store now at three in the morning, to get her cookies or pickles or some other kinda goofy shit."

"Know what you mean there," I laughed. "I got so sick of seein' Micky eat pretzels with chocolate sauce for a month."

"That ain't nothin'!" Cut looked disgusted. "Conny had this thing for spaghetti with strawberries when she was pregnant with Kyle. What a combination." He cringed at the thought. "But I'm still hungry, Chase. You's talking about huntin' somethin', before we got off track. Think we could get away with it?"

"Why not? Just gotta be careful. I haven't seen anyone but us up here...not counting our mystery creature of course. Don't think there's much to worry about, as far as DNR or so goes. Besides, just in case," I grinned slyly, "I brought my bow."

"Should've known," Cut grinned back. "You never come unprepared, do you?"

"Nope!"


	11. Day 13

**Day 13**

The fog seemed to be even thicker this morning, rolling in dense clouds between the trees. _Unusually cold for late summer too_ , I thought as we made our way back toward the target area again. Chief had insisted on coming along, but he was limping like a lame duck, and the expression on his face was not much short of pitiful. Buck didn't seem too happy about our renewed excursion either. I about never got him out from under my cot when we were ready to leave.

I had considered the possibility of hunting for fresh meat some more, then discarded the idea—at least for the time being. We had other things to worry about.

According to our plan, we avoided the ridge and moved straight along the creek-bed, toward the little waterfall, about one half mile further east.

Cut cussed between his teeth, slipping on the wet ground.

"You make more noise than a herd of buffalo," I scolded irritated.

"Oh, shut up!" he hissed back. "Damn fog! Can't see a hand before my eyes. We still goin' the right way?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"Hell, I'm just tryin' to keep up with you. Slow down! Stop runnin' like a raped ape."

"What's the matter? Can't take it, old man?" I grinned at him over my shoulder.

"I'll out-run you any day. I's just thinkin' of Jimmy."

"Sure you were," I sneered, but slowed my pace since Chief really _was_ falling behind.

For whatever reason, Buck had stayed at his side. Evidently he figured, Jimmy needed his help more than I did at the moment.

I stopped and turned around, Cut did likewise.

"You alright, man?" he asked as Jimmy limped up beside us.

Chief nodded, but didn't look very credible.

"You wanna head back to the camp?" The question earned me an indignant glare and some quick signs toward Cut, which I didn't get. "What'd he say?"

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out, Chase," Cut sneered. "Let's just get on with it, alright?"

I shook my head, rolled my eyes in resignation, and started walking again. Cut snickered behind my back, making me suspect Chief had signed another smartass remark. I deliberately ignored it, and only turned to look when Buck started growling. _Okay, what is it this time_?

Cut stood frozen in his tracks, finger on the trigger of the second SIG he had laid claim to, and Chief's eyes were guardedly scanning the area behind us.

Buck was really out of it this time. Snarling and trembling, backing up toward me at the same time. I had the MPK ready, but there was just nothing there. Not a sound, no leaves rustling, no movement between the trees, nothing! _What the hell is the matter with this dog_?

Jimmy's hand wrapped around the hilt of his Bowie so tight, his knuckles were solid white.

"Damn!" Cut merely breathed. "What's going on?"

Chief signed something left-handed, never letting go of the knife.

"What?" I whispered.

"Ain't nothing out there, he says," Cut answered equally low.

"No, shit! But what's got Buck so freaked again then?"

He merely shrugged uneasy.

None of us had moved for several minutes now. I still couldn't make out anything that would cause alarm. Except for... _wait a second!_ It was totally quiet. The only sounds came from Buck. Nothing else. No birds, no squirrels chattering or moving in the trees, no leaves rustling. _Too quiet!_

"Cut!"

"Yeah, man!"

"It's too quiet!"

"Shut up, Buck!" This time Cut hissed at the dog. Without success. If anything, Buck growled even harder than before.

Chief stared intently at one certain spot, about thirty yards to our right. He didn't even react when I touched his arm.

"What's he looking at, Cut?"

"How the hell should I know? I don't see anything. Just a bunch of leaves and fog."

Buck abruptly jumped like someone had stabbed him, and took off in break-neck speed, right past that area. Barking and growling, he topped over a low rise and disappeared from our view. Complete silence now. Not even a whisper of breeze, and the fog seemed to make it worse.

I was almost glad to hear Cut cuss between his teeth. _At least something!_

"What now, Chase?" he breathed, still without moving a muscle.

Both of us startled when Chief suddenly turned around. _Geez, what a look_! Like he had just come face to face with his own ghost.

"What's out there, Jimmy?" Cut asked, barely audible.

Chief responded with a tense gesture, the fingertips of his right hand touching his forehead and then the hand turning palm outward away from the head.

"He says, he don't know," Cut informed me.

I acknowledged with a silent nod, since I had seen _that_ particular sign often enough by now to recognize it. But then why was he looking so spooked? _Man, them night-black eyes could really get to you._

The wind picked up, and at the same time the drizzle started again. _Great!_ Somehow it seemed to help though.

"Chase," Cut was still whispering, "we're just gonna stand here now, or what?"

"Well..." I drew a deep breath, relaxing my grip on the MPK. "No sense in goin' after Buck. I figure he'll be back again later. So we might as well go on as planned. What you think?"

"Don't like to turn my back on whatever's out there, but I guess you're right. Damn, I hate that feeling, knowing something's there and not knowin' what it is."

Chief finally let go of his knife, at least long enough to sign a few more words.

"He thinks, we oughta check out this spot over there." Cut pointed to the area, Jimmy had been so fixed on. "Says somethin' moved, he just ain't sure what."

"Okay, but let's stay together. I'll take the point. Cut, you cover our backs."

"Gotcha!" he answered, and Chief nodded, giving him another quick sign.

"Watch your step!" Cut relayed the message.

"I will!...And, Chief," I gained his attention, "you might be better off with that gun." I indicated the SIG since he had reached for his Bowie again.

A nonchalant shrug in response, and he gripped the knife even tighter.

 _Well, whatever! To each his own_ , I thought and turned.

Suddenly a motion! Lightning fast, no more than a flicker. I had no chance to make out what it was because Jimmy tackled both Cut and me to the ground at the same time. A whizzing sound as the arrow passed a hair's breadth over our heads.

Chief was back on his feet and off before we even knew what hit us.

"Jimmy!" Cut yelled after him out of sheer reflex.

"Yeah! Real bright, man!" I hissed.

"Damn you...what was that?"

No time to answer. A high-pitch scream.

"He's got 'im!" Cut took off.

"Man, look out!" I hollered, chasing after him.

Chief wasn't too far away, approximately at the spot that had caught his attention a while ago. He was kneeling down on top of something—or should I say someone. Who or whatever it was, he had it scared out of its mind. At least that was what the screaming sounded like. We pulled up.

"Damn!" Cut panted. "That's a kid!"

He was right. A boy, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, quite tall but about as skinny as a telephone pole, at least as far as anyone could tell, considering the camo outfit he wore was a good two sizes too big. Jimmy had him spread-eagle on the ground, the tip of the Bowie tickling his throat.

"Let go!" I grabbed Chief's wrist, pulling back and added, "Let him up!" when he looked at me.

He seemed somewhat reluctant, then relaxed in my hold nevertheless and pushed to his feet, breathing hard.

The youngster just laid there. He had stopped screaming and stared up at us, eyes as big as soup-dishes, shivering like a leaf on a tree.

Cut bent down, picked up the bow from beside the boy and tossed it over to me. "Little sucker! What the hell'd you shoot at us for?"

No reaction. That kid was really 'out-of-it'.

 _Well, who wouldn't be, gettin' tackled by a six-foot-seven Indian with a sixteen-inch Bowie_.

"Jimmy, put that damn knife away, he ain't goin' nowhere," Cut said, along with signs since Chief looked nearly as far off as the boy. "Hey!" A jab from Cut's elbow, Jimmy exhaled a sharp breath and returned the blade to its sheath

"Yeah, I know," Cut responded to whatever he now gestured.

"Care to fill me in?" I grumbled.

"He said, that was too close."

Hard to decide which one of us wore the dumbest expression when that boy answered instead of Cut. We just kind of gawked at him—at least I know I did—as he sat up.

"What y'all doin' up here?" he queried suspiciously.

"Maybe we should be asking _you_ that?" I slowly came back to my senses.

He only shrugged, grinned wryly and grappled to his feet.

"Woah! Hold it right there, boy!" Cut brought the barrel of the SIG up level with the kid's bellybutton. "Don't you try no funny stuff again. You almost got one of us killed, and we don't take kindly to that. What you doin' here?" His voice turned hard as a rock, and the youngster shrunk back, turning an unhealthy shade of gray.

Chief signed to Cut, and the boy quickly shook his head.

"I just come up here lookin' for my old man," he muttered low.

"Wait a minute," I interrupted, "you understand sign-language?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Got a sister that's deaf. Is he, too?" He pointed at Jimmy.

"Yes, he is," I replied. "But let's not get off track here, okay ? You said you came up here to look for your dad? Why?"

"Well…" He blinked and hesitated. "You guys DNR or somethin'?"

"No! Now look," I started to get impatient, "who or what we are is none of your business. You shouldn't be here, running around, shooting at people. I'm still waiting for an explanation, and it better be a good one."

He scratched his head, glancing nervously from me to Cut, to Chief and back. "If I tell you...you promise not to turn me in?"

"That depends," I answered cold.

"Well, it's like this," he sighed, "my old man comes up here sometimes to hunt..."

"Illegally you mean, right?" I threw in and he flinched.

"Look, Mister, you gotta understand...he lost his job over a year ago. He just does it to get some meat on the table ev'ry now and then. My brothers an' me help out as good as we can, but he _makes_ us go to school, so there ain't much time to work for money."

"How many brothers you got?" Cut asked.

"Three. I'm the oldest of us boys. My sister, she's seventeen, takes care of the house an' the little ones."

"What about your mom?" I already hated the question before I even spoke it.

"She's too sick to do anything. Dad never admits it, but I know she's got cancer. Anyways, we found a little camp back there, 'bout two years ago. No one ever comes up here. We really wouldn't neither if we didn't have to," he mumbled absolutely pitiful, and I exchanged an uneasy glance with Cut.

Cut raised an eyebrow. "That camp...you been there?"

"Yeah, but we always put things back the way they were, so no one can tell. And like I said, ain't never seen nobody else up here before."

"Well, we're here now, so you better get your shit and high-tail on outa here," Cut scolded.

"I can't," the boy argued. "I gotta find my old man. He's been gone for over a week, and we's startin' to worry 'bout him. You know, there's a lot of weird shit goin' on up here."

"What are you talking about?" I inquired, trying not to sound all too curious though the remark certainly was enough to rouse my suspicion.

"Well," he hesitated again, "don't really know, but there's a lot of stories goin' round about this place. People disappearin' and such. Like a Bermuda Triangle in the woods."

Cut and I traded another look, and Chief squinted uncomfortably.

"Guess that's why no one likes to come here," the youngster continued. " It's creepy! We never seen anything, but I always get a bad feeling. That's why I almost shot you by accident. Just don't tell my old man. Please! I'd be in all kinds of trouble...you got another one?" he asked when I lit a cigarette.

"Ain't you a little young for that?"

"Nah! My old man says, just as long as you stay off drugs, you'll be alright."

"Oh, he does, huh?" Cut smirked. "So how you plan on findin' him anyways?"

"Don't know. I came up here yesterday and checked the camp first. Knew there was somebody there, but my old man wouldn't build a fire. Too obvious. I just kinda strolled around...weird though, couldn't find anything. Then you guys showed up with that damn dog. Thought for sure DNR had caught on to us. Man," he said and signed to Chief, "you scared the shit outa me!"

Jimmy shrugged impassively, patting the handle of his Bowie knife.

"You don't sound like you're really from around here," Cut assessed. "You got one hell of a redneck drawl."

"So do you," the boy retorted. "You sound like an old Okie."

"That's 'cause I am," Cut admitted sullenly. "You got a problem with that?"

"Nah! I get along better with rednecks anyway, than with them yanks up here. I growed up in Alabama."

"So what's your name?" I inquired.

"Kelly."

"Kelly, what?" I pressed, and he squinted at me.

"Sure you all ain't with the law? Goin' by your hardware, you look like Feds or somethin'."

"What do _you_ know about things like that?" I asked surprised.

"A whole lot," he grinned matter-of-factly. "Always see a bunch of Suits down around base, when I work there. They all carry fancy stuff like that." Kelly indicated the .40 caliber SIG.

Cut rubbed his chin. "What else do you see there?"

"Hell, I can't tell you that."

"Why not?" I frowned.

"Shit! You let out I been snoopin' around down there, they'd lock me up and throw away the key, man. That's all top-secret, you know."

We couldn't help but grin at each other. That little smart aleck seemed to know more than we did. Chief signed to him and he shrugged, gesturing something back.

"Excuse me," I said irritated. "You mind keeping the conversation in layman's terms?"

"Oh, you don't understand...?" Kelly seemed confused.

"No, I don't. Now would you be kind enough to fill me in?"

"He just asked me, if I'd ever seen any of the Feds come up here."

Cut got that look again. "Well, did you?"

"Maybe...what's it to you?" he asked slyly.

"You sure got a lotta nerve, boy," Cut scowled. "Anybody ever teach you some respect?"

"For what? Hell, I still don't know who you guys are, and what you doin' here. I ain't gonna run my mouth to end up in all kinda fuckin' shit."

"Won't you watch that mouth of yours, boy," I chided, restraining a grin since he sounded like an old country-boy from back home. "We're just up here on vacation."

Kelly dropped a corner of his mouth in contempt, and squinted at my MPK. "Suuure you are," he drawled. "Suppose you brought that thing along to catch fish, right?" He pointed at the weapon. "Man, you must really think I's born yesterday."

Cut rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Well, Chase, he's got you there, don't he?"

"No, shit," I sighed. "So what we gonna do about it?"

"Oh, just gimme back my bow and I'll be on my way," Kelly answered. "Soon's I find my old man, we'll get outa here. I ain't gonna say nothin' about y'all being up here."

"It's not that simple, Kelly," Cut replied, suddenly very serious. He blew out a long breath and I understood.

This was a whole new situation we now faced. We couldn't simply tell the boy the real reason for us being here, but if that nosy little brat got the urge to snoop around—apparently he was good at that—he might land himself _and_ us in all sorts of trouble. _So now what!?_

Chief tapped Kelly on the shoulder to gain his attention, and Cut translated for me.

"He asked 'im, what kind of weapon his dad brought along when he came up here...

Kelly says he had a bow, too," Cut continued when the boy just signed his answer. "Says, they almost got caught once, using a rifle..."

"Wait a minute," I interrupted, "thought you said nobody else ever came up here?"

"Well," Kelly flinched, "usually not, but..." He squirmed uneasy.

"But what?"

"Damn, man, if they find out I know what's going on up here..." He cut himself off, apparently realizing he had already said too much.

"Look, Kelly," I rubbed my forehead since it was throbbing again, "I won't ask you what you know, but we can't risk you telling anyone about us being here either."

"So what ya gonna do? Shoot me?" He frowned, though not looking overly concerned.

"Nah! Thought maybe we could make some kind of a deal here."

"Like what?"

"Like you get your little camo-covered ass outa here and go home...we'll try to find your old man," I quickly added when he opened his mouth to object. "We won't even tell 'im that you tried to shoot us, okay? Just get going and don't look back," I ordered sternly, handing him his bow.

He still hesitated, until Chief signed something, appearing dead serious.

"What was that all about?" I grinned, because Kelly suddenly spun around and took off like a scalded dog.

"Jimmy told 'im, that pretty blond hair would make a nice addition to his collection," Cut chuckled, then turned serious again. "Think he'll keep his mouth shut?"

"Yeah," I mused. "Seems, he knows a little more than he should. Figure he wouldn't wanna risk anyone asking questions, which they certainly would if he told 'em he'd seen us up here."

"Got a point, I guess," he shrugged. "Alright, now that that's been taken care of... what's next?"

"Well," I thoughtfully looked around, "seems to me, there's still a few points here that don't quite add up. Just didn't wanna discuss it in front of our little buddy."

"Like what?" he asked, signing to Chief since I had my head turned when I said it.

"Well," I repeated, "think about it. First, Buck freaked, but then ran right past Kelly without even noticing him. Second, if his dad's been in this area for over a week, how come we ain't seen neither hide nor hair of 'im. Third, the boy said there's weird things going on, but they been huntin' up here for years without any trouble. And fourth, I think he knew a whole lot more about them boys we're looking for, than he let on."

"Kinda had that impression too," Cut agreed with an edgy grimace. "Maybe we should've squeezed him for answers a little harder?"

"Nah, he's pretty smart. Too smart for his own good. Just hope he makes it back down without runnin' into any other kind of trouble."

"He didn't leave!"

Cut and I tensed, trying not to give away our surprise at Jimmy's low remark.

So Kelly was still in the area and watching us? Knowing the boy could understand signs, Chief just spoke, calmly, without showing any obvious reaction.

"Up there!" He furtively turned his eyes in the direction of the ridge, and we did likewise.

"Little shit!" Cut snickered between his teeth. "Like to turn him over my knee and give 'im somethin' to think about. What we do now, Chase?"

"I go get him," Jimmy answered in my place, but did not get around to carry out that intention.

A quick rush, and Buck came flying out from between the trees. Kelly didn't even have time to scream before the dog pounced on top of him, and both of them came rolling down the hill, end over end. Coming to a stop a few steps away from us, Buck was immediately back on the boy, snarling, teeth bared, and pinning Kelly to the ground.

I knew Buck wouldn't hurt him, so I made no attempt to call the dog off. _That'll teach you a lesson_ , I thought, and Cut had a rather nasty grin on his face as we stepped over.

"Get 'im off me!" Kelly squeaked, not daring to move because Buck's teeth hovered less than an inch above his nose.

"Well, look what we have here," I chuckled. "If it ain't our little nosy friend. How you doin' Kelly?"

He gave me a look that could have brought a rock to tears—at least it worked on Cut.

"Oh, call that dog off, Chase," he pleaded on behalf of the boy.

"Buck!" Just one word and a quick snap of my fingers. "Good boy!" I patted his head as he sat up beside me, though growling low and never taking his eyes off the boy.

Cut, being Mr. Nice Guy, helped Kelly to his feet.

"Boy, oh boy," he mumbled, wiping his mud-covered camo pants. "Don't know what's worse, that dog, or his damn knife." He pointed at Jimmy.

"That dog's just doing his job," I informed him. "You're lucky, he didn't rip your head off."

"Nah, he wouldn't do that." He already managed to smart off again. "Seen them kinda canines before. Ain't trained to kill. Only to...what ya call it... _restrain_ their victim."

"You sure got an answer for everything, eh?" Cut shook his head.

"Nope!" Kelly shot back. "That's why I thought I'd stick around a little while longer. You know, find out what you guys _really_ after."

"Not a good idea," I warned. "Look, you said yourself, there's some weird stuff going on in this area, right?"

"Yeah, and you're here to find out about that, right?" he smarted, and I rolled my eyes.

"Geez, now I know why some species eat their young."

"What's the matter?" Kelly smirked. "Gettin' too close to the truth, am I?"

I didn't answer, and Cut scratched his head embarrassed.

"Thought so," Kelly continued. "You guys got somethin' to hide, that's why you tried to get rid of me so quick...Oh, shut up, dog," he laughed when Buck growled a little louder.

Apparently Buck wasn't quite sure, either, what to make of that boy, considering he actually turned quiet and laid down beside me.

"Well, what y'all wanna do now?" Kelly asked.

I shook my head in exasperation. "You just don't give up, do you?"

Jimmy had followed the whole conversation with a sarcastic grin on his face. Now he turned to Cut and signed.

"Good idea," Kelly nodded to my frustration.

"Somehow I get the feeling, I ain't gonna like what he just said," I mused.

"Probably not, Chase," Cut enlightened me. "He thinks, maybe we should allow Kelly to stick around for a while...since we can't seem to get rid of 'im anyways," he added when I frowned. "You know, make sure he stays out of trouble and..."

"Are you two nuts?" I cut him off. "What the hell are we? A bunch of babysitters?"

"Ain't never needed nobody to look after me," Kelly protested. "But if you let me come along, maybe I could help."

"With what?" I sneered.

"Well," he pensively scratched the back of his neck, "seems to me, you guys are real interested in knowing what's up here."

"And I suppose you can tell us?"

"Could if I wanted to. Depends on what's in it for me."

"You gotta be kiddin' me! What makes you think, we don't just pack you up and turn you over to the authorities?"

"Nah!" Another sly grin. "Figured out, you don't really want anyone to know you's up here. Look, I know _top-secret_ when I see it. Been around it all my life. And besides," Kelly tapped at my right arm, just below the rolled-up shirt sleeve, "I know that one!"

Glancing down, I realized the bottom part of my tattoo was showing. The letters R-a-n-G-e-r below an eagle's head. "Oh, you do?" I drew up an eyebrow.

"Yes, Sir! 2nd Ranger Battalion, 75th Infantry Regiment. There's only ten of the Rangers who wear this certain tattoo with the capital 'R' and 'G' in it, and one of 'em is my uncle," he rattled off in one single breath.

Needless to say, we stared at him once again with open mouths.

"And since I know three of the guys who got it, not countin' my uncle, and your buddy here called you _Chase_ , that would make you Sergeant Chase Riggin," he continued in another endless breath. "And since they wouldn't send no Ranger..."

"Woah, wait a minute!" I finally threw up my hands, cutting him off. "Wait just a damn minute! How the hell do you know all this, and who is your uncle?"

"Well, like I said, I hang around base a whole lot," Kelly shrugged. "And my uncle is Lieutenant William Hughes."

"Oh, great!" I sighed in resignation, and Cut started laughing on top of his lungs.

"Well, Chase," he gasped for air, "I guess that explains a lot, don't it?"

"Yeah," I muttered. "The bad attitude definitely seems to run in the family."

Chief grinned and signed a quick question.

"Yup!" Cut nodded, still laughing, and Jimmy rolled his eyes.

"What?" I queried impatiently.

"He's just wondering if we're talking about Big Billy."

"He knows 'im?"

"Sure does. They met a couple times when LT was visitin' down at the ranch."

"Wonderful!" I grinned crooked. "Seems like we're getting a little family-reunion together here."

Chief signed something else, and this time Kelly answered. "Ah, come on, he ain't that bad. Just gets a little touchy if someone don't show enough respect for the military."

"Figure you get in trouble over that quite a bit, huh?" I said. "Considering you're showing _us_ here no kinda respect, whatsoever."

"That's different," the boy claimed.

"Oh, it is?" Cut interjected. "How you figure?"

"Well...hell, I don't know. But y'all just don't look as tough as him. And I'd pictured you a whole lot bigger, Chase, from what Billy told me 'bout you," he grinned innocently.

"Oh, shit!" I shook my head. "I ain't even gonna ask!"

"So does that mean I can stay then?" Kelly inquired, shifting his gaze between the three of us.

"Well," Cut drawled, "I guess unless we tie you up and drag you off that mountain, we ain't gonna get rid of you, eh?"

"Nope!" Kelly shook his head pretentiously and I sighed.

"Okay, look! You don't ask any questions. You don't smart off anymore. You do exactly what we tell you, _when_ we tell you. And as soon as we find your dad, you both get the hell out of here and don't come back. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Sir!" he answered, snapped his heels together and saluted, but with a rather solemn expression instead of the shit-eating grin he had been wearing before.


	12. Day 13 (part 2)

**Day 13-2**

Another lost day, and we still had not been able to get any further than the notorious ridge. What was it about that? It seemed almost like an invisible barrier was keeping us from our goal.

Returning to the camp, we used the rest of the daylight hours to restock our supply of firewood. I have to admit, Kelly did more than his fair share of splitting and stacking logs. He and Jimmy were still outside. Despite his little 'attitude problem', the boy turned out to be a lot less trouble than I had anticipated. But the idea of him sticking around bothered me. This was not a vacation, and what we had encountered up here so far was more than enough to raise concern. Besides, the possibility of finding his father and getting them both safely out of the area was rather slim.

"Hey, Chase," Cut interrupted my thoughts, opening a can of pinto beans with his KA-Bar, "I's just thinkin' of somethin'."

"What's that?" I asked, losing track on how many scoops of coffee grounds I had already poured into the pot.

"Well," he peeked over my shoulder, "we been up here what...two weeks now? Ain't we supposed to check in with your buddies down there, once in a while?"

"Supposed to. But what am I gonna tell 'em?"

"Hmmm," he mused thoughtfully. "Got a point there. I just thought, if they didn't hear from you they might send someone else up, and that wouldn't be all that good."

"Not likely, Cut." I started a new count on the coffee grounds. "It would be quite a while before they'd consider us MIA. Besides...damn!" I dumped the pot for the second time.

"Oh, gimme that!" He pulled the spoon from my hand. "I'd like some today, not next week. And besides what?"

"Well, like I said, what should I tell 'em? That we had a couple encounters with Bigfoot up here? Boy, that'll go over real good," I laughed.

"Yeah, they'd definitely send someone then...to pick us up and lock us away," Cut snickered and—dumped the coffee pot. "Shit! Wait a minute...one, two, three," he counted out aloud this time.

Kelly stuck his nose in through the door. "That coffee ready yet?"

"Oh, shut up!" Cut snapped, turned around and threw the spoon at him.

"Hell, I just asked," Kelly muttered confused. "Chief an' I got all that wood done, and he sent me to get him a cup."

"Looks like he'll have to wait a while, huh, Cut?" I grinned, earning myself an indignant frown. "Is Buck out there with you?" I asked the boy.

"Nope! He took off about ten minutes ago," Kelly shrugged. "Guess he's got him a girlfriend somewhere around here."

"Like you'd know about that kinda thing," Cut grumbled. "Get your little skinny ass back out there and tell Jimmy to come eat."

"Sure hope you're better at cookin' than makin' coffee," the boy smirked, and ducked out another piece of silverware—actually in our case it is aluminum—flying in his direction.

Coming through the door at that moment, Chief snatched the fork out of the air, right in front of his face. Don't know what he signed to Cut, but since Kelly crumpled into a fit of laughter, I figure it wasn't very favorable.

"Ah, hell," Cut scolded, "you'n all kiss my ass! Fix your own damn food." He handed the can of boiling hot pinto beans over to me and plopped down on his bunk, pouting.

"He get that often?" Kelly gasped between spurts of giggles.

"Every time someone makes a remark about his cookin' skills," I chuckled. "So if you wanna eat around here, you better keep your mouth shut."

"I'll remember that," he answered, trying to look serious, but cracked up again when Chief added some more signs.

"Oh, stick it, Jimmy!" Cut gave him 'the finger', and I actually regretted catching only half of the conversation.

"When you're all done…" I pulled up a chair and got comfortable with my plate of beans. "Help yourselves, 'cause our cook's on strike."

I didn't have to repeat that twice. Hell, when it came to eating you better got out of Cut's way, unless you didn't mind getting stuck with a fork. It did a lot for his mood too, at least after he had finished the first and went for a second helping.

"By the way, Kelly," he muttered with a mouth full of beans, "what's your uncle Bill doing nowadays? We ain't seen him in years. Lost contact."

"Well," Kelly answered, chewing, "after he got back from Saudi, he kinda figured he'd take it easy for a while. Got himself transferred to Alaska."

"Fort Greeley?" I inquired.

"Nah, Wainwright…1st Stryker Brigade Combat Team, 25th Infantry Division. Says he loves it up there. Good huntin', great fishin', and a whole lotta beautiful countryside."

"Lucky bastard," Cut grumbled. "They's gonna send me back to Fort Polk, Louisiana. Ain't no way I'll sit around in that damn swamp again. Hell, the fuckin' mosquitoes down there are big enough to carry you off. So I got out while I had the chance..."

"And regretted it ever since," I threw in.

"Well, I just can't right get used to being a civilian, Chase. Don't seem to fit in with all them business people out here. Just ain't the same, you know," he mused, a little regretful.

"I don't get it," Kelly frowned. "You Army-guys get up at five in the morning, do a couple hours PT, bitch about it the rest of the day, and when it ain't there no more you can't stand it. Billy's the same way. He got out three years ago, 'cause his ol' lady didn't feel like movin' around all the time. Two month later he told 'er to go to hell, and signed back up so he wouldn't miss any action. Now what's wrong with that picture?"

"Hard to explain," I shrugged. "But Bill is a lot like me in that matter. He really believes in what he's doing. There ain't too many of us hardcore soldiers left. Hell, everything's gettin' so high-tech nowadays, they don't need us old grunts anymore. That's why Cut got out too, but I guess some of us just ain't got the nerve to start over."

"Seems to me, they still do," the boy argued.

"Do what?"

"Need you! Otherwise you wouldn't be _here_ right now. Seems all that high-tech Government shit don't do much good up here, does it?"

"Nah," I laughed, trying to pull him off the subject. "Got nothin' to do with that."

"Like hell it don't. Look, I told you I know what's goin' on, so don't try to fool me. Between the Feds runnin' around and then you showin' up...come on, man. I know damn well they sent you lookin' for 'em."

"So you seen 'em up here?" Cut queried since Kelly wasn't about to give up on it.

" 'Course I did," he answered indifferently. "Ain't nothin' unusual. Just figured they's coming to check before they'd launch another blast."

"What in the hell are you talking about?" I started to get suspicious. Apparently he really knew something and was beating around the bush. _Or_... I wondered, was he trying to sneak information out of us? Certainly a possibility. The nosy little brat sure could manipulate a conversation. _Better be careful, Chase._

"I'm talking about the stuff they got in this area." Kelly replied seriously. "Y'all ain't got no idea, do you? Man, this place is a tickin' time-bomb, and we're sittin' right on top of it."

"Seems to me, you watch too many Rambo movies," Cut said with a forced laugh, and since he started fiddling with his KA-Bar, you could tell he was getting a little anxious.

I wasn't sure whether Jimmy had caught our whole conversation. He definitely looked like his mind was on something else when he got up to get a beer. _Ain't gonna find a cold one_ , I thought, watching him check several different cans. We had simply stowed them away in a corner. Too much trouble to lug a bunch of ice up here, and it wouldn't last anyway.

"Where's mine?" Kelly complained because Jimmy returned with only three cans.

"Damn, boy," Cut laughed, "you smoke, you cuss like a sailor, you drink...what else?"

"Ah, a couple of Buds never hurt anyone," he shrugged. "Never mind, Chief, I'll get my own," he said with a quick gesture, walking over.

"You alright, man?" Cut inquired when Jimmy handed us the cans and sat back down with a noticeable wince.

"You don't look too good," I added as he nodded curtly. "Shouldn't have busted your ass out there with that wood. Me and Cut could've done that later."

He just waved me off and leaned back against the wall.

"Hey, guys," Kelly interrupted low, and we turned around. "Where'd you get this?"

The look on his face was pretty close to desperate as he held up that shredded field rucksack. I had carelessly thrown it into the corner back there, more or less to get it out of Buck's way since he still cringed every time he smelled it. Seemed we had forgotten all about that. Until now!

"This is my old man's," Kelly mumbled, turning it over in his hands.

"Your dad's?" I frowned and exchanged a worried look with Cut. "How's your dad get a rucksack like that? That's military..."

"I got it for 'im, alright?" the boy shouted in anger. "Look, man, I got connections, okay? But I still wanna know where _you_ got it. It's all tore up. What y'all do to my old man?" He was close to tears now. Understandable, considering how this must look to him.

Chief sat up, snapping his fingers to get Kelly's attention, and signed to him.

"I know it is," the boy answered to whatever the question was. "It's got his initials written on the inside of the flap. See, F.B.H., Frank Benjamin Hughes. Damn, I know it's his."

Chief signed something else and—I pitched my beer can against the wall in frustration.

"Damn it, Chase!" Cut jumped up as he got hit with the spray. "Snap the fuck out of it! Jimmy just explained to 'im that the rucksack was already ripped when you found it."

"Well, thanks a lot for filling me in on that," I scorned. "Why don't you all just write me a fuckin' letter next time, and I'll catch up on what's going on later."

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Kelly now got onto me. "I don't wanna listen to your bullshit, I just wanna find out what happened to my old man."

"Yeah, so do we. But..."

A sharp whistle from Jimmy cut me off , and he signaled 'time-out', looking irritated.

I rubbed my forehead, embarrassed that I had allowed myself get so carried away.

"Alright, let's just calm down here for a minute, guys," Cut helped me out. "Ain't no sense in jumping at each other's throat over this. Look, Kelly, we found that rucksack about a week ago. Didn't know who it belonged to...hold on, I said," he snapped when Kelly started to open his mouth. "We figured it was from one of the boys we'd come up here to find," Cut continued with a sideways glance at me.

"Yeah, well, it ain't," the boy threw in. "It's my old man's, for sure. Y'all find anything else?"

"Nothing that could belong to your dad," I shrugged. "Well, except for that can-opener over there. It was inside the rucksack."

"Damn," he mumbled, "I knew this was gonna happen sooner or later."

"What was?" Cut queried.

"Told ya, there's been stories 'bout people disappearing up here. My old man just figured they'd made 'em up, to keep everyone out of the area."

"Who are _they_?"

"Government...Military...hell, I don't know," he answered me. "I never really thought about it. Guess I should've, huh?"

"Maybe it would help if you told us what you know," Cut suggested calmly, but received no more than a hesitant shrug for an answer.

"Kelly!" Chief spoke up—to my surprise, I might add.

"Hell, I didn't know you could talk." The boy flashed him a quizzical look. "Oooh... now I understand," he suddenly grinned. "That's why you got so pissed, huh, Chase?"

"Damn right," I muttered. "You all start rattlin' off in sign-language, leaving me sittin' here like a complete idiot."

"How does it feel?" Chief replied dryly, and I slowly began to comprehend. He was right!

 _Damn, Chase, you're an inconsiderate asshole_! "Look, Chief, I'm sorry," I said, feeling stupid when he shrugged off the apology.

"Forget about it…Kelly," he turned back to the boy, "what do you know?"

"Look," Cut added since Kelly still hesitated, "we got a much better chance of findin' your old man, if you fill us in on what's goin' on around here."

"Guess you got a point," he finally gave in. "Alright, but you gotta promise that no one _ever_ finds out I squealed, okay?" He looked from one of us to the other, stopping with me. "Chase...?"

"What!"

"Promise?"

"You just don't think very highly of me, huh?" I smirked. "Look, whatever you tell us, let's just say we'll consider it _top-secret_ , okay?"

"Right!" He grinned crooked. "But y'all ain't gonna like what you'll hear."

"The suspense is killin' me!" Cut rolled his eyes and Kelly sighed.

"Alright, listen…" He drew a deep breath. "You know, after that wall in Germany came down, the Russians and us kinda gave up on that _cold war_ shit, right?"

We nodded without interrupting.

"Well, when that was over, I guess our Government figured they might not need all that much military equipment anymore, and started puttin' away with it. I'm sure you know all that, too."

Some more nods, slightly bored this time.

"Anyways," Kelly continued, "someone had the bright idea to take this place here, and turn it into a dump for chemical warfare leftovers..."

"Wait a minute!" I stopped him quickly. "They _what_?"

"You heard me," he replied in a grave voice. "They needed a place to dispose of some of that shit, so they started bringin' it up here. Think I'm kiddin'? I'n show you right where it's at. Whole bunch of it."

"You sure it's chemical agents?" Cut inquired with a doubtful frown.

"Positive! Look, I found out by accident. Guess I snooped around a little too much down on base. Just happened to come across some paperwork..."

"Bullshit!" I scolded. "If something like that was going on, the information would be coded and the papers destroyed as soon as they were read."

"Yup!" Kelly nodded. "That's exactly what happens, but I figured it out anyways."

"Oh, and how'd you manage that?" Cut interrupted again.

"Simple! You wouldn't believe what a little computer-literacy can do for ya. Besides, like I said, I got connections."

We quietly looked at each other, hating to admit that he might actually be telling the truth.

"So what did you find?" I finally asked.

"Well," he scratched his head, "definitely enough to get ya worried. They bring this shit up here, dump it between the mountains, and then cover it up later. That's why I thought them Feds had come up here to check on it."

Cut raised an eyebrow. "And you know where it is stored?"

" _Stored_ ain't quite the right term for it," Kelly squinted uncomfortably. "More like _discarded_ carelessly. Look, I know what that stuff can do to ya. Every bit of it is deadly, and it's not like somethin' that's biodegradable or so."

"Not if we're talking about chemical agents, no," I agreed. "But I'm not convinced that anyone would take a risk like that. Bring it up here? It's State property, sure. But hell, they know there's people coming up here all the time. I been huntin' up here for years, and have never seen anything suspicious."

"When's the last time you's up here? Before now, I mean?" Kelly smarted.

"Let's see...'bout four or five years ago, I guess."

"See, that explains it. That shit didn't start until three years ago or so, 'bout the same time the rumors started going round about people disappearing. That's why we figured they'd made 'em up, to scare everyone off from coming up here. Look," he sighed, "if you don't believe me, I'n show you where it's at, and you'n see for yourself."

"Alright," I consented. "But answer me one more question..."

"What's that?"

"If all that bull you just fed us is true, then why did your dad keep coming up?"

"Told ya," he huffed impatiently, "we wouldn't if we didn't have to. But this is about the only area where we'n get away with it. Besides, we always stayed clear of that stuff after we found it."

"So how far is it from here?" Cut wanted to know.

"Just about a mile past that ridge where I was," Kelly shrugged. "I's headed that way when y'all showed up. Thought my old man might've got a wild hair up his ass, and gone over there to see if they'd brought up any more since the last time."

Cut, Jimmy and I exchanged a knowing look when he mentioned the ridge. _Weird_ , I thought, _chemical agents still wouldn't be responsible for what we had come across._

Apparently Chief was thinking along the same line, and Cut translated as he signed the question to the boy. "You said before, you always had a creepy feeling coming up here. Why? Because of the chemicals?"

"Nah!" Kelly hesitated, then answered along with signs, "This might sound real stupid, but sometimes, when we shot something, it disappeared."

"What do you mean?" I queried, trying my best to seem indifferent.

"Well," he squirmed, "like this one time, my old man shot a buck...huge animal, 'bout a ten-point or so, I guess. I watched 'im hit it, I know it was a dead-on shot. But that damn buck took off like a bat outa hell, and we couldn't find a hair of it nowhere. Shit, y'all must think I'm full of it, but I swear that's what happened, and it wasn't the only time."

Boy, was I glad that Cut and Jimmy were so surprised, they actually forgot to start laughing. _Damn, that story just hits a little too close to home_.

"You say something like that happened more than once?" I inquired.

"Yeah! Sometimes you'n be following some tracks up here, they'll be clear as anything one minute and the next...like somethin' just swept the floor, if you know what I mean."

Oh yes, we knew. Did we ever! But to admit that?

Chief signed another question, and I guess Cut's mind was a little too preoccupied to worry about a translation. No problem, though, at least not in this case.

"Traps?" Kelly queried. "How'd you know? I wasn't gonna mention that, 'cause it sounds even weirder than the thing with the buck. Why? Y'all find one, too?"

"We didn't find _it_ ," I smirked, looking at Jimmy, " _it_ kinda found Chief."

"Oooh!" The boy didn't quite manage to suppress a grin. "So that's why you're limping like a...a...hell, I can't think of a good comparison right now."

Jimmy just rolled his eyes in response.

"Tell me something, Kelly," I brought the conversation back on track, "going by your story, your dad knows about what's going on up here too, right?"

"Well, I _had to_ tell 'im after I found out about it. You know, make sure he knows where it's at, and stays clear of it when he comes up."

"That's not good, not good at all," I mumbled.

"Why? He'd never let on..."

"No, you don't understand," I interrupted. "If this gets out somehow, both of you would be in all kinds of trouble."

"Hell, I know _that_ ," Kelly shrugged again. "That's why I made y'all promise not to tell."

"You sure got a lot of nerve, boy," Cut shook his head. "You don't even know us, and go babblin' off the mouth about shit like that?"

"Ah, I know all about ya. Once I figured out who you was...hell, the stuff Billy told me, it's like I known you all my life," he declared.

"Is that right!" I drawled, grinning. "So you figure we're the good guys?"

"Yeah! Like Billy said one time, he'd walk straight into hellfire, never thinkin' twice, as long as you's there to cover his ass."

Cut's eyes widened. " _Lieutenant Hughes_ said that?"

"Sure did!" Kelly nodded.

"Damn, that's pretty high praise, considering where it's comin' from."

"Damn right, man," I agreed. "And we always figured, he thinks we're a couple of no-good, party-animal, rednecks, eh, Cut?"

"Yeah," he laughed, "but don't let it get to your head. It'll ruin your reputation."

"Know what you mean. Better keep 'em guessing, right?"

"Well, anyways," Kelly interrupted, "what y'all wanna do? Like I said, I can show you where that stuff's at, if you think I made it all up."

"You gotta admit that whole story sounds pretty farfetched," I mused. "But somehow I almost tend to believe it. Still would like to go have a look though. Just to see what we're dealing with."

"No problem! We'n head up there, soon as it gets light, okay?"

"Fine with me," Cut mumbled. "Jimmy, you alright to make it up there again, or you gonna stay here?"

"I'll go!" Chief answered with an impassive look.


	13. Day 14

**Day 14**

Something woke me! 3:12 a.m., according to my watch. Our fire had gone out, and impenetrable darkness covered the inside of the cabin. I could hear Cut snoring to my right, and Buck's low growl coming from over by the door. _What is going on_?

"Cut!"

The snoring stopped momentarily, he mumbled something and, judging by the creaking of the bunk, turned over.

"Cut!" I hissed a little louder, sitting up.

"What's the matter?" Kelly's sleepy voice answered instead.

"Don't know. Be quiet and don't move," I whispered, reaching for the MPK beside my cot. "Shut up a minute, Buck, I can't hear myself think."

The dog growled louder, now with an angry undertone.

"Shut it, I said!" I slid off the bunk. "Damn, Cut, wake up!"

"What?" he finally grumbled back irritated, but then seemed to be instantly on his feet. "What's going on, Chase?"

Ignoring the question, I felt my way toward Buck's location and only now noticed Chief, standing with his back to the wall beside the window.

"See anything?" I asked, gliding next to him, but realized at the same time that in the darkness he could not possibly make out what I was saying.

Still he answered, almost inaudible, "Someone is out there."

"Some _one_ or some _thing_?" _Damn, Chase, you're doing it again_! "Cut, get over here!"

"Shit! I can't see a thing," he hissed, tripping over something as he moved beside us. "What's goin' on?"

I could barely recognize Jimmy's motion for 'silence', a finger across his lips, and another gesture indicating the woods outside. Straining my eyes, I glared through the glass of the old windshield from a Jeep, that served as our window.

Chief pointed a little further to the right, and following the direction— _There_!—A quick stir! A large shadow was moving between the trees.

Cut must have seen it at the same time. "Damn, what is that?" he whispered over my shoulder.

"Let me see." Kelly came creeping up next to me.

"I told you to stay put, damn it," I scolded low, unlocking my MPK. "Cover my ass!" I advised Cut and slid toward the door.

Buck quieted somewhat when I put a hand on his back. I could feel his hair sticking up though, and the low rumble coming from his throat. _Good thing we oiled them hinges_ , I thought, opening the door as slow as possible. Crouched with my back against the side-wall, I peeked around the corner.

Buck growled louder again, and I placed my fingers over his muzzle. He was trained to instantly silence at this and it worked, but I could feel him shudder against the touch. I would have to move further out to see around the side of the hut, which meant having to let go of the dog.

A hoarse growl from the left, and Buck tore loose. Snarling and barking, he chased toward the area where we had recognized the movement. Another growl, more a roar this time, mixed with a painful howl.

 _Damn_! I was instantly on my feet and around the corner. The giant shadow, less than ten yards away from me, doubled in size as the bear rose to his hind legs. No time to think! I brought the MPK up. The deafening blast from the gun, even louder in the night, cut off the next nerve-racking roar. The shadow crumpled to the ground. Between the ringing in my ears and the darkness, I couldn't make out anything. Almost a comforting sound when I switched the MPK to full-auto—just in case!

There was no movement, however. Nothing for several moments. Then a low whimper, a few steps from me. _Buck_!

"Cut!" I hollered suppressed, knowing he had heard me since he was quickly at my side.

"You get 'im?" he inquired, handing me one of the flashlights.

"Think so," I answered scarcely. "Go see. I gotta check on Buck. Be careful!"

In the dim glow of the flashlight I could see his indignant frown at the unnecessary admonition. Guess this little incident had rattled my nerves, or was it just the adrenaline rush? _No matter_! I took a deep breath to calm myself and stepped over to Buck.

"Damn, old boy," I mumbled, kneeling down, "he got you good, didn't he?"

The dog was laying on his side, whining softly and looking up at me with big, pleading eyes.

"It's okay," I soothed as I ran my hand along his side. "Shit, that's deep."

He shuddered when my fingers touched the wet hair on his shoulder.

I held up the light to closer examine the cuts.

"Is he alright?" Kelly inquired, squatting down beside me.

"Don't know. I can't see enough out here. Let's get him inside."

"Need some help?"

"Yeah, here...take the gun and the light." I flipped the safety on the MPK and handed it over to him along with the flashlight.

Buck whimpered harder and struggled against me when I picked him up.

"Damn it, hold still," I grumbled between my teeth. "You're heavy enough as it is."

#####

Chief had started the fire back up and lit two of the lanterns. He gave me a questioning look of concern as I placed the dog onto my cot.

"Damn, Chase! Hell of a shot!" Cut came through the door. "Shit, he get Buck?" he squinted worried.

"Yeah. Where's that fuckin' medical kit?" I cussed, rummaging beside the bunk.

Jimmy tapped my shoulder and handed me the pouch when I turned.

"Thanks! Help me hold 'im, Cut, so I can patch him up."

"Easy, boy," he mumbled, restraining Buck's front legs. "Geez, you's lucky! Stupid dog! That grizzly could've tore you to shreds," he kept talking while I cleaned and wrapped the dog's shoulder.

"Can I go see it?" Kelly begged. "I never seen a real grizzly up close. How big is it?"

"Pretty damn good size. 'Bout eight-hundred pounds I guess," Cut informed him. "Shot him dead center in the heart. Hell of a hit!"

"Wait a minute!" It suddenly hit me. "Did you say _grizzly_?"

"Sure did, man."

"Bullshit, Cut! There ain't any more grizzlies in this area."

"Well, now that you mention it...that is kinda weird, but I swear that sucker is gray and way too big to be anything _but_ a grizzly."

"I wanna look at it," Kelly repeated.

"Just wait till it gets light," I answered irritated. "Go back to sleep, we got a lot of shit to do tomorrow."

"Hell, who'n sleep after this?" he protested. "This is really somethin'. Knew it'd be cool hangin' around you guys."

"Yeah, well," Cut scratched his head, "this ain't all that _cool_. Buck's hurt and we got real lucky. A grizzly ain't nothin' to fool with. He'd eat ya as soon as look at ya."

"Ah, that wouldn't happen with you around. Damn, Chase, how'd you manage to get a shot like that off in the dark?" Kelly asked admiringly.

"Just luck," I shrugged. "Now will you _please_ shut up. Go sit down somewhere, okay?"

"Alright, alright! Hey, Chief..." He turned, and since it actually got quiet I figured he just signed whatever it was that he _had to_ tell Jimmy.

Cut looked over and snickered, but I was too busy to worry about the conversation.

"Here, that should do it. You'll be as good as new in a few days," I assured Buck.

He gave me kind of a doubtful look, then licked my hand nevertheless.

"So, now what?" Cut inquired. "We still gonna head back out when it gets light?"

"Have to. We already lost too much time. Guess we just leave him here, he'll be fine...I hope!"

Buck regarded me with a low growl.

"Sounds like he don't appreciate that idea at all," Cut chuckled. "It's alright, boy." He scratched the dog's head. "You just take it easy for a while."

Another growl, and we both laughed this time.

Chief got our attention with a snap of his fingers, and Cut grinned from ear to ear as he relayed the signed question.

"He's wonderin', since we got us some fresh meat kinda by accident, shouldn't we go take advantage of the situation?"

"You know, that's not a bad idea. Guess we'd still be in time to gut 'im and cut us up some."

"Already took care of the first part when I was over there," Cut smarted at me.

"Oh, you did, huh?" I smirked. "So what you waitin' for then?"

"Just thought I'd make sure it's okay with you."

"Yeah, right!...Kelly, stay here with Buck, we'll be back in a few."

"Oh, come on, I wanna see it before you cut it up," he complained.

"Boy, you gonna cause me to lose my hair," I sighed.

"Hell, there ain't much left to lose," he shot back, squinting up at my receding hairline.

I shook my head in resignation. _Asked for that one, didn't you, Chase!_

Chief grinned roguishly and placed an arm around Kelly's shoulder, signing that way. Whatever he told him, it had the effect that the boy giggled but sat down on his cot without further protest.

"That's better," I nodded, earning myself a shit-eating grin.

Cut chuckled, making it hard to hold my question until we got outside.

"What did he say?"

"Oh, Jimmy just told 'im, that you're real sensitive when it comes to your hairdo," Cut informed me with a mischievous snicker.

"Thaaanks! Man, between the three of you, I don't know who's..." I interrupted myself, and the joke was suddenly over when we reached the spot where the bear had fallen.

"No way!" Cut's eyes widened in disbelieve as he held up the lantern he had brought along. "No fuckin' way, Chase! This is impossible...I just don't believe it!"

Chief bent to a knee, but looked back up at us over his shoulder immediately.

I merely stood, staring at the spot.

"What the _fuck_ is going on here, Chase?" Cut asked low.

I shook my head. There was no way explaining this. Nothing there _to_ explain! No bear, no blood, not a leaf disturbed. Like nothing had ever happened.

Jimmy got back to his feet, and it wasn't the first time I had seen _that_ particular expression on his face. His eyes darted back and forth, carefully scanning the surrounding darkness, and his fingers were wrapped around the bear-claw necklace.

 _Well_ , I thought, _guess it's time to start believing in ghosts. How else would you explain an eight-hundred pound, dead grizzly disappearing without a trace?_

"Chase?" Cut's voice was tight.

"Yeah, man!" I didn't sound much better.

"This can't be. I gutted that son-of-a-bitch right here. There was blood and everything all over the place."

"Damn, Cut, what do you want me to say?" I snapped at him, not meaning to. "That it was all just a bad dream, and we's in it together?"

"I don't know," he answered low, "but I've had about all I can take of this shit."

"You and me both, buddy!" I concurred, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Well," he let out a long breath, "usual question...what now?"

"Usual answer," Jimmy said in my place, along with the familiar "don't know" sign.

"Thanks for the input, Chief!" I couldn't help but grin despite the feeling that this situation was everything _except_ comical. "Well, guys," I continued, "I figure we'll just have to write this little incident off as another _unsolved mystery_."

"You'n just leave it at that?" Cut scolded. "Damn, Chase, somebody is pullin' a real bad joke on us here, and it's slowly but surely startin' to be not funny anymore."

"Didn't know it ever was," I replied dryly. "Look, if you think you'll find out what's going on...well, be my guest. I'm gonna head back and try my luck in the morning."

Ignoring his testy look, I turned and started toward the camp. No sense in going back to sleep. Hell, who could sleep after something like this anyway. _Okay, Chase, think! There's got to be an explanation_. Needless to say, there was none. What had occurred here tonight was simply beyond any logic or reasoning.

#####

"You done already?" Kelly greeted me as I walked through the door. "What's the matter? You look like you just seen a ghost or somethin'," he sneered.

"Maybe I have," I answered curtly, and sat down on my cot beside Buck.

"Well, did y'all save the hide?" he rattled on. "I'll help you scrape it, we could..."

"Shut up!" I barked. "If you really must know, there _is no_ hide and there _is no_ bear."

"Whaaat?" The boy stared at me in total confusion. "But I thought..."

"Yeah, well, we all thought," Cut snapped, coming in together with Chief. "Guess we all thought kinda wrong, huh?"

"Let me get this straight," Kelly grinned crooked, "you're tryin' to tell me it's gone?"

"Yup," Cut shrugged, "hide, dinner and all. Not a trace of it nowhere."

"Are they serious, Chief?" the boy inquired, signing as he spoke.

Jimmy confirmed with a somber nod.

"Damn," Kelly mumbled, "I'n see losin' a buck. But a grizzly?" He scratched his head.

"I wouldn't believe it either, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," I mused sullenly.

"Maybe your dog could find somethin'," he suggested.

"Probably, but I don't want him out there for at least a couple of days. His shoulder is pretty tore up."

"Alright, so then now what?"

 _Damn, I hate this question_!

"Well?" Kelly pushed for an answer, and Cut helped me out.

"We'n look again after it gets light, and if we don't find nothin'...guess then we just go on as planned."


	14. Day 14 (part 2)

**Day 14-2**

Despite all hopes we might have had, things didn't look any better, even in broad daylight. We must have turned every leaf and rock in a one mile radius. Without success. Not the slightest hint of our nightly 'adventure'. After wasting the better part of two hours, we decided to call off the search and continue on toward the ridge—without Buck, I might add. He was left behind, tied up inside the cabin. I hated to do this, but knew he could open the latch on the door if he wanted to.

Kelly was unusually quiet this time. He hardly said a word as he led us along the creek-bed and past the little waterfall.

Cut and I exchanged a curious look, considering there had been no kind of interruption yet. _Well, that's a first_. _We've never gotten this far_ _before_ , I thought but instantly regretted it. A strange feeling, like a cold chill, ran down the back of my neck.

At the same time Chief, who was walking beside me, suddenly stopped and turned.

"Kelly, wait!" Cut hissed low. "What's the matter, Jimmy?" he asked him from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention. "Hey!" Cut waved in front of Chief's face when he got no response. "Yo, buddy, snap out of it!"

Jimmy finally shook his head with a startled motion and turned back around.

"What the hell was that all about?" Cut inquired along with signs.

Chief blinked uneasy, glanced back over his shoulder a couple of times, then shrugged.

"Damn, don't _do_ that! You're gettin' us all freaked out, man," Cut scolded.

"What's going on, guys?" Kelly now queried.

"Hell, who knows. He's seeing things, I guess," I laughed halfheartedly

"No!" Chief answered solemnly, adding a few signs.

Kelly rolled his eyes. "Great!"

"He says, somethin' just felt wrong," Cut enlightened me.

" _Felt_?" I squinted. "Like what, Chief?"

For a moment it seemed like he thought about answering, then he only shrugged again.

"Wait a minute!" I reached for his arm. "It felt like someone was watching us, right?"

He cast me a quizzical sideways glance and nodded hesitantly.

"Oh no, not you too, Chase," Cut frowned.

"Can't help it, man. After what happened last night, I'm starting to believe in ghosts myself."

"Not ghosts... _spirits_!" Jimmy corrected me.

"Yeah, well, whatever. But I have a weird feeling anyways."

"It's gone now."

"Seems so, Chief," I agreed, looking around. "Damn, I wish I knew what that was."

"Well, I sure didn't notice anything. Did you, Kelly?" Cut raised an eyebrow.

"Nah! Oh, just come on you guys, let's get this over with. We're almost there already."

"Alright!...Chief," I tapped his shoulder, "you coming?"

He glanced back one more time, then squinted frustrated and fell into step beside me.

#####

The chilling sensation returned as soon as we moved on. A quick look over at Jimmy—obviously he couldn't ignore it either, considering his hand rested on the Bowie and his expression was all but content.

"Cut, don't turn around, just keep walking," I hissed quickly at his back, hoping Kelly, too, would understand. "Listen carefully! Someone's behind us. Kelly don't look!" I snapped low, switching the safety on the MPK to 'F'. "When I say _now_ , both of you hit the ground. Got it?"

Two acknowledging nods, and I was glad that the boy didn't give me away. Chief walked right beside me, and I figured I could pull him down with me since he probably hadn't caught what I said. A few more steps—

"Now!" I spun around, grabbed a hold of Jimmy and dropped, all in one split-second move.

A flurry of movement between the trees—the MPK, still set on automatic, ripped a wide gash into the underbrush as I emptied the whole thirty-round magazine. The metallic click of the breech and Chief's tight grip around my wrist brought me back to my senses.

"Damn, Chase," Kelly muttered, "I think you just killed everything in a one mile stretch."

"Stay down!" I exhaled a sharp breath. "Let go, Jimmy!"

"You are crazy!" he stated impassively, releasing my hand.

"Yeah, well maybe," I answered and loaded a new clip, never taking an eye off the woods in front of us.

There was no more movement, and now it just remained to be seen what I had actually shot at. _Damn_! I suddenly felt stupid. _What the hell are you doing, Chase_? But at least the feeling of being watched was gone. _Guess it would be_ , I thought, carefully pushing to my feet.

"Man, watch out!" Cut hissed behind me.

"Just cover my ass! Kelly, stay down!" I held the MPK ready.

There was nothing, however, as I hustled from one tree to the next. Nothing when I reached the ravaged line of brush either. I thoroughly scanned the ground and the surrounding area. No sign of anything or anyone who might possibly have been here. Cursing under my breath, I waved the others over.

"Well? D'you get 'im?"

"See if you can find something," I requested toward Chief, ignoring Kelly's question.

Jimmy cast me a curious look, but started checking around without comment.

"Don't tell me you just shot a bunch of trees," Kelly smarted

"Shut up, will ya?" Cut barked. "Damn, Chase, I saw somethin' move too, right before you fired. You _had_ to hit 'im."

"Yeah, well..."

A subdued whistle from Jimmy cut me off, and he motioned to us.

"Please tell me you found something," I sighed, crouching next to him.

"Geez, what is that?" Cut mumbled, when Chief pointed out a deep impression in the muddy ground.

"His footprint!"

"Whose footprint?" Kelly queried, peeking over my shoulder. "That ain't no foot print. Not unless Bigfoot walked along here," he snickered.

Cut and I exchanged a quick glance. Our mystery creature had never been mentioned in front of the boy yet, but we both knew that was exactly what Chief indicated.

"Jimmy," I placed a hand on his shoulder, "he got away, didn't he?" I questioned when he looked at me, receiving only a quiet nod for an answer.

"Who the hell are you talking about?"

"Never mind, Kelly," I grumbled and pushed to my feet. "Just forget about it. Let's go!"

Chief straightened beside me, a tight expression on his face. "Chase!"

"What!"

"You can not shoot him," he stated seriously.

"Apparently not," I grinned wry, but he shook his head and quickly added some signs.

"Wasn't what he meant," Cut explained. "You can't shoot him, 'cause that would be like killing somethin' sacred."

"Wow!" Kelly gawked. "You guys really _are_ talking 'bout Bigfoot."

"Oh, bull! We're just..."

"Bull yourself," he cut me off. "Look man, don't try to fool me again. It's too obvious. The footprint, your face when I mentioned Bigfoot, and Chief saying you can't shoot 'im 'cause it's a taboo. Hell, what else could it be?"

"Boy," Cut shook his head, "is there anything you don't know somethin' about?"

"Sure there is," Kelly smirked. "Just this Bigfoot thing happens to be one of my specialties."

"Is that so!" I couldn't help but grin, thinking, _here we go again_.

"Yeah, man," he answered, strangely serious. "You know, most people around here think it's just a bunch of bull...kinda like you, Chase," he added and I flinched. "But I know the Indians believe in it, and I do too. Maybe it's really just an old legend, but it sure does explain a lot of the stuff that's goin' on up here."

"So, why didn't you mention it before?"

"Are you nuts?" he almost yelled. "Goin' around, tellin' everyone I believe in Bigfoot? Man, they'd lock me up faster than I could say _shit_."

"Ain't that the truth," Cut chuckled with a wink at me, then he quickly turned serious, apparently realizing that Chief didn't seem to consider the matter funny at all.

"Sorry, Jimmy, no offense," I apologized on Cut's behalf.

"Doesn't matter. Believe what you want," Kelly related the signed reply.

"Well, to be honest," I squinted embarrassed, "right now I ain't quite sure anymore what to believe in."

"Good!" Chief smiled wryly at last, and while I failed to see the logic in the remark I wisely chose not to answer this time.

#####

We moved on, knowing that whoever had been watching us before might still be around. There was no further interruption though, and—to my relief—the strange feeling never returned. Kelly led us, perhaps another half mile, down a steep slope and into a tight pathway between two large boulders. We hit a hardly visible game-trail, cutting through the almost impenetrable growth of trees and brush on the other side of the opening.

"Ouch, shit, watch what you're doing!" Cut scolded when Kelly let go of a thorny branch he had pushed aside, and it snapped back against his chest.

"Sorry!" the boy mumbled with a not quite suppressed snicker.

"Damn it, Cut!" I cussed since he now let that same nasty switch flip toward me. "Watch out, Jimmy!" I turned, holding the branch, but noticed that was no longer necessary.

Chief's Bowie made quick work of the pesky snag.

"Hey, don't do that!" Kelly sounded worried. "They'll find out somebody's been here."

"It's alright," Cut assured him. "We'll take care of it on the way back. Nobody's gonna notice anything. I promise!"

"I sure hope so," Kelly squinted unconvinced. "Well, here we are." He pointed ahead. "Now see if I's lying or not."

"Well, let's have a look," Cut said, squeezing past the boy. "Oh, damn," he added, suddenly real low. "Chase, come here and look at that. Oh, fuck!"

"Told you so!" Kelly smarted, but without humor.

"Oh, man!" I exhaled a long breath as I moved up beside Cut and stared at what I had somehow hoped we would _not_ find.

Kelly had told the truth! There were at least thirty containers. Large, blue 55 gallon drums. I had seen them often enough to be perfectly clear about their contents. And even if there should be a doubt, it was quickly dispersed by some of the still visible markings.

Chief caught Cut's attention with a snap of his fingers.

"Yup!" Cut nodded gravely at the signed question. "Blister-agent, Nerve-agent...all that good stuff."

I turned, having seen more than enough. "Kelly, you got an idea, exactly how much of it is up here?"

"Well," he scratched his head, "goin' by them stats I found, they bring about fifty barrels up a year, drop 'em and cover 'em when there's a bunch together."

"Cover them? How?"

"Just blast a piece of mountain down on it," he shrugged. "That's what I thought the Feds were up here for. They always come to check just before they blow it."

"How many times did that happen before then?" Cut broke in.

"Oh, 'bout four or five times. Guess there's at least two-hundred or so drums up here by now."

"Damn!" Cut cast me an almost desperate look.

"That son-of-a-bitch," I muttered, rather to myself than anyone else.

"Who?"

"Harless...one of the bastards who sent me up here. I had the feeling he was hiding somethin', the whole time I talked to 'im," I answered between gritted teeth. "Damn, Cut, I bet he knows about it."

"Don't make no sense, Chase. Think about it. Why'd he risk sendin' you up here after his boys, and chance you find out somethin' you ain't supposed to know?"

"Good question," Kelly threw in when I didn't answer right away.

"Look, let's face it," I mused, "what would've been the odds of us coming across this shit, if it hadn't been for Kelly?"

"Rather slim," Cut admitted dryly. "Hell, who'd think about somethin' like that bein' up here anyways."

"Right," I nodded. "But it sure adds a whole new side to the story, don't it?"

"Sure does, man. If they get a feelin' we know...damn, Chase..." He didn't need to finish because I thought along the same line.

 _This whole trip might easily turn into a one-way-ticket for all of us_! "We gotta get out of here," I stated urgently. "Kelly, you need to get your butt home, and lay low before anyone starts asking questions."

"What about my old man?" he inquired hesitantly.

"Like I told you before, we'll try to find 'im, okay?"

"Alright," he consented frustrated.

Jimmy had watched our whole conversation without the slightest show of emotion. Whether he realized what was at stake here—I wasn't quite sure, but figured he knew exactly what we were up against. He proved me right, regaining Cut's attention and signing a few words.

Cut merely nodded, then turned back to me. "Chase, Jimmy's got a point," he said seriously. "If they find out we know, they'll make sure we ain't comin' off this fuckin' mountain ever again."

"I know," I answered hard. "Sorry I ever drug you two into this mess."

"Hell, you didn't know. But we better come up with a real good story real quick, and check in before anyone gets all too suspicious."

"Not _we_...just me. I want you and Chief out of here while you still can. This is getting..."

"Negative, Chase!" he cut me off. "I ain't leavin' you stuck here by yourself. Told you that before..."

"That was a different situation," I interrupted him in turn. "This is not a request, it's an order! Understood?"

"Yeah, just one little problem with that...I ain't your little average snot-nose Private, _Sergeant_ Riggin, so forget about it."

"Excuse me!" Kelly broke in. "Could we please continue the discussion somewhere else? This ain't exactly my favorite picnic area, you know."

"This subject is not open for discussion at all, but you're right. Let's get outa here!"

#####

"Jesus Christ, Sergeant! Where the hell have you been?" the CQ's voice came over the PRC-Radio. "They are in a total uproar down here, because we couldn't get a hold of you."

"Take it easy, man," I answered, waving Kelly to be quiet when he started snickering behind me. "I'm right here where I'm supposed to be. Just been busy, that's all."

"Yeah, well," he came back, "I've had the General breathing down my damn neck for days. He's catching all kinds of hell from the Suits. They want to know what's going on."

"Damn it, what the fuck do they want? Me gettin' out and doing my job, or sittin' by the radio and waitin' for someone to talk to?" I snapped into the receiver.

"I don't know, but you need to hold on. I have strict orders to make sure that General Bradford gets a chance to talk to you. Just stay on."

I could hear him yell something to a Private. "Great, Bradford," I whispered to Cut. "Just what I was trying to avoid."

"Guess that's why the call it _prick_ -radio, 'cause you always end up talkin' to one," he sneered back, signing to Jimmy, apparently explaining what was going on.

"Sergeant Riggin," a slightly unfriendly voice boomed through the handset, "this is General Bradford. I sure hope you have a good explanation."

 _Oh, shit_ , I thought but answered, "Yes, Sir!", instead. "I apologize for any inconvenience, General, but we've been pretty busy up here."

"Who the hell is _we_ , Sergeant?"

"Haven't you been informed, Sir?" I recovered quickly. _Damn! Gotta be more careful, Chase. They don't need to know just who all is really up here._

"Oh, yes," Bradford came back to my relief, "I was told you brought one of your old Army buddies along. Anyway, Riggin, you better tell me you found something. This clown, what's his name...Micheals...has been on my case ever since the second day."

"Again, I apologize, Sir." I tried to sound convincing, and Cut snickered this time. "And yes, Sir, I can assure you we are making good progress," I continued.

"Progress? That's not good enough, Sergeant!"

"Excuse me?"

"I have orders to call the detail off, should you not have been successful by now."

"General, no offense, but we are too close to give up now," I replied, starting to get suspicious. "A couple more days is probably all we need to wrap this case up," I lied.

"Negative, Sergeant!" Bradford snapped back. "These orders come from higher up. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. Understood?"

"Sir, I don't like the thought of leaving a job like this unfinished," I argued nevertheless.

There was quite a long moment of radio-silence, and Cut cast me a worried look.

"Think they suspect somethin'?" Kelly queried.

"Sergeant," the General was on again before I could answer, "two days, under one condition..."

"Yes, Sir?"

"You _will_ check in every eight hours. No excuses, or your ass is in a sling. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Sir!" I answered between gritted teeth. "Anything else, General?"

"Not at this time, but, Riggin..."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Never mind! Bradford out!"

"Thank you, Sir! Riggin out!" I switched off, and slammed the handset in frustration.

"Well," Cut grinned, "that wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"Worse!" I mumbled. "Somethin' ain't quite right, man. We got orders to call off the mission. Damn, Cut..."

"What you mean, call it off?" he interrupted. "Thought they were hell-bent on findin' their boys?"

"And that's what bothers me. Apparently they now think we been up here just a little too long."

"Damn..."

"Well, Bradford is giving me two more days. That's it," I shrugged.

"And then what?" Cut asked sarcastically. "We'll just go home and forget about it?"

"Don't know yet. Maybe I'n figure a way around it. Sure would like to find out what's _really_ goin' on up here."

"You don't expect to find somethin' we ain't found yet, do ya?"

"Never know," I smarted. "Sure would be interesting to get a closer look at our mystery friend, don't you think?"

"Be careful what you wish for," Kelly threw in.

"Yeah, man," Cut agreed with a wry grin. "He ain't all that pretty to look at, believe me."

"You won't have to anyways. I told you before, you, Chief and Kelly need to get out of here. Now listen," I cut him off before he could argue, "there's a good reason for this."

"Better be," he grumbled.

"First of all, I wanna make sure that Kelly gets home all right."

"I ain't gonna need..."

"Shut up a minute!" I snapped at the boy. "Second, Chief, you better get that leg seen about... don't start, too," I added when he motioned something to Cut. "I been watching you. I know damn well it got worse. Can't take care of it right, up here. And third, Cut, I have another job for _you_ when you get down."

"Like what?" he queried indignantly. "Tell your ol' lady I ran out on ya?"

"No, man," I snapped back. "You ain't runnin' out, asshole. I'm sending you. Someone's gonna have to figure a way to get somethin' done about that shit we found..."

"Are you nuts?" Kelly interrupted. "Damn, I should've never trusted you son-of-a-bitch!"

"God damn it, shut up! What? You think I'll just go telling _anyone_?" I yelled at him. "Look," I continued calmer, "you said yourself, this place is a ticking time bomb. Damn right it is, and something needs done about it."

"What you got in mind?" Cut squinted.

"Well, try to follow me on this. What do you think Lieutenant Hughes would do with information like this?"

"Hmmm," he mused, "that might not be a bad idea, Chase."

"That's what I figure...Kelly, do you know if he still got connections?"

"Where the hell do you think I got _mine_ from?" the boy smirked. "I just ain't told 'im 'bout this shit, 'cause I's worried it might get him in trouble."

"Nah, he knows how to cover his ass," I assured the boy. "I think he might be real interested in knowing about this, don't you?"

"Probably would, but what can he do about it?"

"Oh, I'm sure he could figure somethin' to put an end to this, before it gets half the population of Washington State killed," Cut answered seriously.

"Right!" I nodded. "That's why I want you to try and get a hold of him."

"Man," Kelly scratched his head, "he's all the way up in Alaska."

"Yeah, so? That's what they make phones for," Cut grinned. "Sure I could get a little inconspicuous message through to 'im."

"On the phone?" the boy's eyes widened. "Man, that's way too dangerous. If anyone..."

"No kinda confidence in us whatsoever, huh?" I sneered. "Look, Kelly, Cut knows what to do, trust me."

"Yeah! There ain't been nobody yet who could figure out a coded message _I_ sent," Cut added, a little conceited.

"Right! Including the person you sent it to."

"Oh, kiss my ass, Chase!"

"King Kong ain't got lips that big," I laughed, then turned serious again. "Anyway, he'll get it through safely, Kelly. Don't worry about it."

#####

Later that night, Cut caught me outside by myself. The rain had stopped, and for some reason it had warmed up considerably. Getting a stuffy feeling inside the cabin, I decided to stretch out in the field-hammock for a while. He came after me a short while later, settling with his sleeping bag on a huge flat rock. I knew he had something on his mind since he kept glancing over, apparently hoping I would start a conversation. It didn't take too long though before he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Chase?" he mumbled low.

"Yeah, man?"

"You know, I don't like the idea of leavin' you stuck up here by yourself."

"I know!"

"Just doin' it more or less 'cause of Jimmy."

"I know!" Same scarce answer.

"He'd never admit to it, but I think his leg's really botherin' him."

"Noticed it too, huh?"

"Yeah!" Cut sounded concerned. "He was limpin' a lot worse today, and if you look at his eyes you'n tell he's startin' to run a fever."

"Yup," I came back, "that's why you need to get him down, before it gets too bad."

"Damn, Chase, this shit wasn't in the plan, was it?"

"Sure wasn't, man. I should've never drug you two into it."

"Let me tell you somethin'," he snapped, clearly angry all of the sudden, "you ain't never _drug_ me into anything I didn't wanna be in, alright? And just so we're clear on it, I'll be back up here, soon as I take care of business down there."

"Don't even think about it," I answered tight, then added softer, "look, Cut, I'll be just fine. Buck's staying with me, and I only got a couple of days left anyways."

"Thought you's gonna do somethin' about that?"

"Like what?"

"Well, knowin' you, I figure you'll just turn the radio off and stay as long as you want," he snickered.

"Yeah, right! And have the MPs waiting when I _do_ get back?" I tried to sound convincing, though he had guessed my exact plan.

"Wouldn't be the first time, now would it?" Cut replied sarcastically.

 _You just know me too well_! I grinned to myself. "Look, Cut..."

"Oh, quit it , Chase," he broke in again. "You ain't much for followin' orders if you got your mind set on somethin', and neither am I. So, just deal with it."

"Guess I'll have to, huh?"

"Yup!"

"Okay, but be careful comin' back up. I'm gonna set up a little security-zone around the camp. Just in case, you know," I informed.

"Like what?"

"Oh, like maybe a few trip-wires, couple of traps..."

"How about settin' up the game-tracker you brought along, so it'll let you know if someone's comin'?" he suggested.

"That's my intention. By the way, explain somethin' to me, will ya?"

"What's that?"

"Last night, when we had that damn bear come around, Chief was already over by the window before I even got up...How did he know?"

"Well," Cut scratched his head, "I ain't quite sure, but that's what I meant when I told you not to underestimate him."

"Guess I owe him another apology, " I mused.

"Nah, just don't say nothin'. He's kinda touchy about that."

" 'Bout what?"

"People not taking him for full. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I drawled thoughtfully. "Sorry I been such a jerk about it."

"Ah," Cut grinned, "you's just bein' your usual _lovable_ self."

"Glad you see it that way. Anyways, we better get back inside and get some sleep."

"Yeah!" He yawned and stretched. "You comin', too?"

"Maybe I better," I sighed, rolling out of the hammock when the drizzle started again.


	15. Day 15

**Day 15**

Only a short good-bye the next morning, trying to avoid the sentimental stuff. Cut assured me once more that he would be back in less than twenty-four hours. Kelly didn't say much of anything for a change, and Chief merely shook my hand, a drawn expression on his face.

"Okay, Chase, back to work," I mumbled, walking back into the cabin after they had disappeared down the path. "Let's see what kinda ideas we'n come up with to make this place a little less inviting, huh, Buck?"

He looked up at me with big eyes, full of understanding.

"Well, ol' boy, it's just you and me now," I kept talking, partly to make myself feel better. "Here," I held out a piece of Jerky, "Jimmy got you hooked on that stuff, didn't he?" I scratched his head, and he swallowed the whole strip in one gulp. "Now, let's see what all we got here..."

Buck kept watching me closely as I rummaged through the assortment of 'toys' I had lugged up the mountain. Getting together what might be of value for my intentions, the feeling of forgetting something crept up on me. _Shit_! I looked at my watch. It had been more than eleven hours since my check-in with the CQ down on base.

"Now I'm in trouble!" I grinned at Buck, switching the radio on.

"Sergeant Riggin," a cold voice came back after I opened the line, "there is someone here who needs to speak with you."

 _Great_! _Wonder who's gonna chew my ass this time_.

"Sergeant Riggin," a different voice rang through, and I flinched as I recognized it, "this is Agent Micheals. What in the _hell_ are you doing?"

"My job, Sir," I answered hard.

"Yes, well, your _job_ is finished. I want you back down here by this afternoon. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Sir! Riggin out!" I hissed and flipped the switch. "Well, Buck, I guess we got a decision to make."

He came limping up beside me on three legs and nuzzled my hand.

"So what's it gonna be? Get court-martialed now or after a while?" I rubbed his back. "Damn, boy, that son-of-a-bitch knows exactly what's going on up here. Figure he already suspects that we found a little more than we should have." I blew out a long breath and grimaced against the pain in my head. "Guess it don't really matter whether we stay or not. He would...wait a minute!" The realization suddenly hit me. "Damn, Buck, you know what I think?"

A look, like he actually did.

"Right! He didn't send us to find his boys. He just wanted to make sure, none of the guys that's been up here would come back to squeal."

Buck gave me a short snarl of agreement.

"Guess that settles the matter for us, don't it, boy?"

Another snarl and he headed for the door, looking back at me with a "let's go" expression.

"Okay," I grinned, grabbing up my equipment. "We'n have this set up in a couple of hours, and when Cut gets back we'll just see how far they intend to play this game."


	16. Day 16

**Day 16**

The short, high-pitch beep of the game-tracker brought me off my cot in a split second. _Sure works_ , I thought, reaching for the MPK.

Buck whined. The signal had to be hell on his ears.

"Stay down, boy!"

He followed, stretching out beside me and calmly gazing at the door, head cocked.

 _Gotta be Cut coming in, or he'd growl_. _Time's about right, a little more than twenty hours_. I remained careful nevertheless, at least until I heard the familiar signal.

"Boy, he's sure got a thing for birdcalls, don't he?" I grinned at Buck and straightened from my crouched position beside the window.

"Hey, Chase!" Cut now hollered and I opened the door.

" 'Bout time you got back. Did you bring some more beer?...Hi, Chief!" I grinned, not surprised at all that Jimmy had returned with him. _Stubbornness definitely runs in_ _that family_.

"Brought two more cases," Cut answered my question, stepping inside. "See you got that shit set up pretty good here. Stumbled right through that game-tracker beam when we walked up. So, what's goin' on?"

"Oh, nothin' much," I shrugged. "Had a little chat with Micheals while you were gone."

"Who's Micheals?"

"A jerk!...He's one of the pricks that got me into this," I added to clarify the situation.

"What'd he say?" Cut sneered.

"Well, I guess it don't matter much now, considering he ordered me back down yesterday. Anyways, did you get a hold of Billy?"

"Sure did. Everything's taken care of."

"Good! Now I figure we'll just wait and see. Kelly make it home okay?" I queried.

"Yeah, we dropped 'im off at his house. Damn good folks, Chase. Wish we could find his dad though, that family's pretty hard up," Cut said ruefully. "I gave a couple of the MREs to them kids…hell, you would've thought it was Christmas or somethin', the way they carried on."

"Well, let's see what we can do about that then," I suggested. "I don't really have much hope, but while we're looking around we might as well keep an eye open for the old man."

"Was kinda hopin' you'd say that. So we gonna go now or wait 'til in the morning?"

"Figure you two could use a little rest. Must've _run_ up that mountain, to get back here so fast," I grinned.

"Yeah, well," Cut scratched his head, then admitted, "I's worried about you, alright?"

"I know!...Jimmy, is your leg okay?" I changed the subject and received a credible nod for an answer. "Good," I continued, "then there's just one thing we really gotta worry about."

"What's that?"

"Well, like I said, I had a little chat with Micheals. I think he knows."

"What we found?" Cut squinted.

"Yeah! I also came to the conclusion that they'll try to make sure nothing gets out, if you know what I mean."

"Shit, Chase, so what we gonna do?"

"Not much we _can_ do now, Cut," I answered seriously. "The only way for you two getting out of it, would be to disappear quickly..."

"Don't start again," he cut me off. "Hell, they know anyways that I's up here. Wouldn't help a bit if I got out now."

"What about Jimmy?"

"What about me," Chief answered for himself and added a few signs.

"He says, they probably know by now that he's here too. Look, Chase, him and I already had a discussion about that when he said he'd come back up with me. Think _I'm_ stubborn? Man, he's worse than both of us put together," Cut grinned wryly.

"Guess that settles it then, huh?"

"Guess so. Alright, let's get a plan going. You got everything pretty much set up?"

"I suppose, but look and see what you think." I rolled out the field-map. It now showed a few more entries, marking the whole security-perimeter I had devised earlier.

Cut gave an appreciative whistle between his teeth. "Damn, Chase, it didn't even look _that_ good when we's comin' through it."

"Hell, that's just because you know what you're looking for. Anyone who don't is gonna be in for a rude surprise."

"Definitely!" he agreed with a snicker. "Boy, I'd hate to be the one catchin' up with one of your little _obstacles_ out there."

"Thanks! I take that as a compliment. So you think we'll be okay?"

"Yeah! Just gotta be careful runnin' around out there."

"We will," I answered somber. "I figure we got at least one day left though, before they come up after us...if that's what they intend to do."

"Ain't no doubt in my mind, Chase."

Chief interrupted the conversation with a quick snap of his fingers.

"Oh, yeah," Cut grinned, watching what Jimmy signed. "Forgot to tell you, Billy said, try to hold out 'til he gets up here. He's supposed to bring some big-shot General with 'im. Said, they been suspecting somethin' for quite a while. Apparently this whole thing here is just one big cover-up by the Feds."

"Thought so," I mused. "Hope he makes it quick though. That son-of-a-bitch, Micheals, strikes me as a kind of guy who don't leave any loose ends."

"Wonderful!" He rolled his eyes. "Boy, the shit we get into!"

"Yeah, and I thought our wild times were over. Looks like they just started."

"Looks like! By the way, I brought you somethin' purdy." He rummaged through his rucksack, pulling out a box of .45 rounds.

I drew up an eyebrow. "So what am I supposed do with that?"

"Oh, yeah...guess you need this too." He grinned from ear to ear as he produced a brand-spanking new Llama IX-C .45 from behind his belt.

"Geez, Cut, what's it, Christmas or somethin'?"

"Nah, just know you like to have backup."

"Thanks!" I drawled, loading the magazine.

"Got me and Jimmy one too. Just in case," he snickered.

"Well, I figure we'n hold off an army for quite a while then."

"Yeah! Hope we don't have to though," he added hard.

 _Wishful thinking, Cut_ , I mused to myself.


	17. Day 17

**Day 17**

Everything was quiet the next morning. _Too quiet for my taste_ , I thought as we made our way back toward the ridge—again! I wasn't exactly sure what we were actually looking for this time. But it seemed up here you could never be certain what you might come across.

Cut snickered behind me, and I looked back, knowing immediately what was so funny. Being honest, I have to admit it wasn't humorous at all. Just tough to decide which one of the two, Jimmy or Buck, was limping prettier.

I turned forward again, shaking my head. _What a team_!

Apparently Cut was thinking along the same line. "Hey, Chase," he grinned as he pulled up next to me, "them two make a beautiful couple, don't they?"

"Yeah!" I chuckled, feeling a little guilty though, knowing Chief couldn't make out from behind us what we said.

"Look," Cut continued, suddenly very serious, "I know you didn't want me to bring Jimmy back up, but thanks for saying nothin'."

"You're welcome. But to be honest, I'm kinda glad you did."

"You are?" he sounded surprised. "I thought you's still pissed, 'cause he..."

A low growl from Buck interrupted him, and we spun around.

 _Shit_! _We damn sure can't afford to get careless_ _now_.

Chief had stopped as well, but shrugged when I gave him a questioning look.

"Chase," Cut whispered, "somethin's different this time."

"Know what you mean," I answered low, straining my eyes in the direction Buck was growling at. I bent to a knee beside him. "What's the matter, boy?"

He quieted and sat on his haunches, panting.

"Great," Cut hissed indignantly. "Now what's going on?"

"No idea, Cut, but apparently whatever it was is gone now." I cautiously straightened.

Chief was still looking back. I touched his shoulder and he turned, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Man, I think all four of us startin' to get paranoid," Cut sneered.

"Seems like we're just waiting for somethin' to happen."

"Seems like! Jimmy, did you notice _anything_?" Cut questioned, but Chief merely shook his head and shrugged.

"Well, I guess we'll go on then," I suggested frustrated.

"Stupid shit! Don't know what's worse, something happening or something _not_ happening," Cut grumbled irritated. "C'me on, Buck!"

#####

Seeing that the dog followed, I went to walking on, but had no sooner turned when Cut's warning scream mixed with the sound of a gun. I whirled back around, just in time to see Jimmy snatch a hold as Cut's knees buckled. _Shit_! The three of us hit the ground, and another shot tore into a tree behind us. This time I was able to make out the direction, and the MPK was ready when Buck suddenly took off, right into the line of fire.

"Chase!" Cut turned my attention. "That son-of-a-bitch almost got you," he hissed low.

"Shit, man!" I moved next to him. "Where are you hit?"

He was laying on his back, and I couldn't see any blood on him.

"Back of my right shoulder...don't worry," he added as I flinched, "had much worse'n that before. Just go get that bastard for me."

I laid a hand on Chief's arm, and he looked up. "Jimmy, can you get him back to the camp by yourself?"

"Damn it, I'll be just fine," Cut snapped instead. "Go on and get the son-of-a-bitch."

I cast Chief a repeated look nevertheless, and he gave me a reassuring nod. "Watch out for the wires," I cautioned hastily and pushed to my feet, braced beside a tree.

Another bullet threw splinters of wood into my face. I sent a short reply of 9mm rounds into the general direction.

"Go! I cover you!"

I didn't turn at Jimmy's words, but ducked and took off with the first round from the SIG. Hitting the dirt at the count of twelve, I brought the MPK back up, waiting.

Nothing this time. _Where are you, son-of-a-bitch?_ I squinted, raising my head up slightly. Still no response.

I crawled forward to the next larger tree and straightened carefully. Everything remained quiet. _You ain't gonna fool me that easy, asshole_. Waiting. _Where the hell is he? Damn fog, just what I didn't need. I gotta get this bastard, before he picks us off, one by one. Didn't think they'd be up here so soon. Damn, Cut took that bullet for me._ My thoughts were racing as I squinted through the thickening mist. _Shit, I've had it with this fuckin' game!_ I jumped forward and raced ahead full speed, expecting an answer of gunfire at any second. Nothing.

I made it all the way to a large rock, halfway uphill. Crouched behind the stone, I halted to catch my breath. _Chase, you ain't as young as you used to be. Won't get much older either, if this bastard gets away_. An angry bark from further up broke my thought. _Buck!_ I was instantly back on my feet and hustled up the slope.

The next bullet missed my head by a fraction of an inch. I dropped like a felled tree, intentionally giving the appearance of having been hit. _Okay, you son-of-a-bitch, just come on over now_. I waited patiently, not moving a muscle but holding the MPK ready. Then a hardly noticeable rustle and I breathed as shallow as possible. A low whimper and Buck's wet nose against my face made it even harder to remain still. But I _had to_ if this plan should have any kind of success. _Damn, dog! Get the hell out of here!_

Another sound to my right and Buck jumped up, snarling. No time to think. I rolled clear, pushed the dog out of the way, and pulled the trigger on the MPK all at the same time. Three rounds, throwing up the ground beside me, and a burning sensation along my ribs followed a cut off scream. Then it was quiet, dead quiet. I exhaled a sharp breath, getting to my knees, and Buck nuzzled my arm.

"Got 'im, didn't we!" I rubbed the dog's wet back. "Damn, boy, you gotta learn to stay out of the way when people's tryin' to shoot. That could have gone pretty fuckin' wrong."

I pushed to my feet, the MPK still ready, ignoring the sting in my side. I knew it was just a scratch. Well worth it though, considering my little scheme had been successful.

The dead sniper laid less than twenty yards away. Buck limped over with me, still whining a little. I flinched at the frozen eyes staring up at us, thinking, _that's one thing I'll probably never get used to_. I retrieved the M14 from beside the guy. _Won't need that anymore, you bastard. Now it just remains to be seen if you's alone. Doubtful! I better check around real good. Hope Chief gets Cut back to the cabin alright_.

"Come on, Buck," I said, slinging the sniper's rifle over my shoulder.

He looked up at me and hesitated.

"It's okay, boy. He ain't gonna hurt nobody anymore. We just gotta find his buddies, before they find us. Come on," I repeated, patting my leg, and this time he followed.

Retracing the footprints of the sniper, it didn't take long to locate where he had been set up. _Thank God for trees!_ This area was definitely unfavorable if you tried to pick someone off at a greater distance. Way too much growth. I knew this from hunting up here before. Not even the best scope could help, and a hit from any more than two-hundred yards out was a virtual impossibility. But in our case this could actually work _for_ us, at least now that it was clear what we were dealing with. Our—or better say _my_ —only mistake had been to underestimate these guys. _Won't happen again._

I scanned the area through the scope of the sniper-rifle. Everything appeared to be clear, as far as I could make out. Catching a glimpse of Cut and Jimmy, I flinched. But at least Cut was up and walking, a good sign. _Better head back too. I can take the shortcut across the ridge and have some hot water on by the time they come in, so we'n take care of that shoulder. Damn!_ The thought of my best friend taking a hit for me bothered me more than I liked to admit.

"Let's go, Buck!" I slid from my vantage-point, suddenly feeling a strange kind of urgency. Watching carefully for any alarming behavior from the dog, I hurried along the mountainside, back toward the cabin.

It was somewhat of a relief to find the trip-wires undisturbed as we passed them. _Good! We'n set up in here just fine for several days. Food and water is no problem, and if the firewood runs out, so what? It ain't that cold._

#####

Buck and I reached the camp without incident. He was acting perfectly normal, which told me everything was clear. I put on a pot of water to boil, and got the medical kit ready for when Jimmy and Cut would return. _Shouldn't be too long. 'Bout half an hour maybe, if Cut can keep up the pace he'd put on when I watched 'em through the scope._ I opened a can of beer and a MRE, settling down in a chair beside Buck to wait.

 _Funny_ , a thought suddenly hit me, _I didn't find any kind of ID on that sniper, and that M14 is just standard issue, nothin' special. Actually you would expect a little better from a Government Agent, assuming that's what he was. More than likely, considering the situation. Besides, he's wearing a black jumpsuit instead of the Military camouflage colors. Guess they really don't want any loose ends on this._

My thoughts were interrupted when the game-tracker signal went off.

"Geez, Cut oughta know by now it's there," I grinned to Buck, getting up. The dog's short bark and low growl stopped me. Cursing under my breath I reached for the MPK and ducked beside the window. The dim light outside told me that actually way too much time had passed, and a glance at my watch confirmed that fact.

"Fifty-eight minutes. Damn, Buck, I fucked up again, didn't I?"

He agreed with a snarl, directed at the door.

I squinted through the glass, unable to make out anything. No movement outside, everything looked quiet. I wasn't fooled by it though. Buck's reaction was too clear.

 _If they caught Cut and Jimmy...Damn, there's nothing I can do right now. It's getting dark way too fast._ I gritted my teeth in frustration and stared into the advancing night.

Nothing!

The beam of the game-tracker was set up in a way, where only something at least four foot in height could set it off.

Buck suddenly turned away from the door and moved toward the back wall of the hut, growling harder. _They couldn't be coming in that way. I put up the PYRO out there_ , I thought, knowing that I definitely would have heard something, should anyone come across the trip-wire for the artillery simulator.

"Damn, Buck, what's going on? No one could even get close here in the dark."

Buck whimpered, then came over to lick my hand.

"Are they out there, boy?" I asked low. "Must be. Just wonder how many of 'em. Guess Cut and Jimmy didn't make it. Hope they'll be okay till we'n go bust 'em out. What you think?" I rubbed his head, and he gave me a growl of understanding. I relaxed somewhat since he had quieted and there was still no indication of anything unusual outside. "Looks like this is gonna be a long night, boy," I went on. "Figure you and I won't..."

Another beep from the game-tracker cut me off. Then two more, followed by the boom of a small explosion. _Got one! Welcome gentlemen_ , I thought sullenly, tightening my grip on the MPK. A snapping sound mixed with a painful scream. _That's two. Well, learn anything yet? Just keep on coming, there's a lot more surprises for you._

But there was nothing else—to my disappointment I might add.

"Wised up pretty quick, didn't they?" I grinned ruefully at Buck. "Guess they'll stay clear, at least till in the morning."

Apparently Buck agreed, because he climbed up on Jimmy's bunk and stretched comfortably, gazing over at me with big, sad eyes.

"Yeah, I know, boy," I sighed, thinking along the same line. "Don't worry, we'll figure a way to get 'em out. Just don't lay a guilt trip on me. I feel bad enough as it is."

He cocked his head sideways and whined low.

"Appreciate the show of confidence," I muttered in return. "Go get me a beer."

A look, like he thought I wasn't all the way 'there', and he curled up to go to sleep.

"Thanks!" I laughed, walking over to get it myself. "That's definitely one thing I'll teach you some day,"... _if we get outa here in one piece. Well, might as well stretch out for a while too. They ain't gonna be stupid enough to try again tonight...At least I hope not._ Following the thought, I leaned back against the wall behind my bunk, the MPK ready beside me—just in case.


	18. Day 18

**Day 18**

Now I am here, waiting, wondering, thinking, _what a mess_! Sleep never comes and I decide to start planning for in the morning. _If there's any less than a dozen of 'em, I got a pretty good chance. Figure at least three or four more gonna have encounters with my traps out there, before the rest of 'em gets close enough to do any actual damage._ Though the cabin was never built with anything like this in mind, the log walls would be efficient to hold off bullets, unless fired from close range. _Only three weak spots, one door and two windows. I can live with that_.

Nothing better to do, I start counting ammo. Four-hundred-twenty-seven rounds for the MPK, thirteen rounds in the clip of the second SIG—Jimmy still had the other one. Fifty rounds for the Llama, forty-two rounds for the M14s, and a whole bunch of shotgun-shells that I can't use because Cut's Bullpup never turned up again. _Bigfoot got it!_ I snicker at the thought. _Well, I still got enough to hold off an army for a day. Just wish I knew them two are okay_. I shake off the thought—have to or I might lose my mind.

Buck is snoring, and the night seems to be dragging on forever, perhaps just because the wait is the worst part of it all. I put on some coffee, mainly to keep busy so I don't start thinking again. It doesn't help! _Wonder what they did with 'em. Hope they take at least care of his shoulder. Maybe I'n get 'em out of this somehow, maybe Billy can do somethin'...if he gets here at all. Damn, Chase, stop feelin' sorry for yourself, it ain't gettin' you nowhere._

A look at the window, and I notice to my relief that it is getting lighter outside. I finish up the last of the coffee and grab the MPK off my bunk.

Buck raises his head and is up immediately, strolling to the door.

"Sorry, boy, you just gonna have to hold it."

He looks at me with a pitiful expression and whines.

"I know, but they're probably out there waiting already. Guess drinking all that coffee was a mistake too," I laugh, but don't feel funny at all. "Hope we'll get this over with quick."

My wish is answered instantly when the game-tracker screeches again. Four, I count in my mind, then deduct one because there is another explosion. At the same time the glass from the old windshield shatters and throws splinters in my face. Several bullets slam into the outside of the logs. _Great! They really mean business._

"Riggin! You guys don't have a chance." I recognize Micheals' voice. "I'll give you all thirty seconds."

 _You guys?_ "Damn, Buck, looks like he didn't get Cut and Jimmy after all."

Another volley of bullets hits the wall.

"Shit, that son-of-a-bitch counts fast!" I still don't return fire. No sense in it. _Let 'em come closer first, so I can make it count._

Buck suddenly starts pacing, then stops and scratches the floor beside the fireplace.

"Geez, boy!" It hits me like a ton of bricks. "How the hell could I forget about that? Let's get outa here!" I grin, slide over to him and pull out the small latch, hidden below one of the stones. "Thanks, Buck!"

Not even Cut knows about this, and I hadn't thought about it at all. There is a tunnel below the camp. It hooks into a sidearm of an old abandoned mine-shaft, which ends approximately one mile east of the ridge. The fireplace was a perfect cover for it. Built on rails so it could be moved, and disguised so well that I had forgotten all about it.

Hitting the ground when more bullets come flying through the window, I push against the outlining rocks of the fireplace. It is moving! _Thank God!_ Then the opening is big enough for both of us to squeeze through. Buck hesitates and needs a little convincing. But then he is through, and I grab a flashlight, following quickly. The latch is down, and the opening closes behind me with no problem. _Let 'em try and figure this one out_.

It is cold down here and pitch-dark, at least until I turn the flashlight on.

"Let's go, Buck! Just hope the shaft ain't caved in. Guess we'll find out, huh?"

#####

We move quickly. A few spots are pretty tight where the walls have partly broken down, but there are no real obstacles. Buck hustles forward. I know he doesn't like tight, dark places, but it is our only chance. The tunnel soon widens. This is where the mine-shaft starts. I grit my teeth, tripping over something. The flashlight shows a wooden beam, one of those holding up the ceiling.

 _Damn!_ "Slow down, Buck!"

He keeps running.

I follow as fast as possible, holding the light down instead of forward now. "Ouch, damn!" _My mistake, ran right into that low spot. Boy, Jimmy would have a time in here. Thank God, I'm only six foot tall._

Then it gets lighter, and Buck runs even faster. A low whistle from me, and he stops, looking back.

"Careful, boy. Let me check first." I sneak up to the opening, the MPK ready, and glance around the corner. Nothing. Everything is quiet.

Buck sits down beside me, panting. A good sign. I still wait though. _Can't be too careful._ Besides, it gives me some time to think. _Okay, what now! By the way Micheals talked, they didn't know it was just me and Buck in there. Good! One less worry on my mind. Just hope Cut and Jimmy don't get the idea of coming to my rescue. Damn, there's somethin' I hadn't thought about. They might still get caught if they tried that._ I scratch my head and Buck gives me an impatient look.

"Okay, let's go. We'll cut back around, and maybe we'n get close enough to see what's going on. I gotta make sure Cut and Jimmy don't try to be heroes. So stay with me and be quiet, got it?"

A reassuring "whoof", and we are on the way.

#####

Of all days it has to quit raining and the sun is breaking through. _Just when I don't need it. A little fog would sure be helpful today._ Buck finds himself a tree that seems to his liking, and I take care of 'business' too while I got the chance. _No tellin' what's gonna happen later._

We move on. Everything is quiet, perfectly normal—at least until Buck suddenly stops, turns back and growls. I spin around, ducking, the MPK ready. Nothing. _Here we go again, same old shit. As if I didn't have enough to worry about_. The dog takes off, back toward the mine-shaft, barking and snarling for all it's worth. Then he is gone and it is quiet, totally still. Holding my breath, I try to listen. Nothing. Not the slightest sound.

"Damn!" Hearing myself is almost a comfort. _Almost!_ I wait and watch, kneeling beside a tree and starting to get a cramp in my right leg. _Great! This damp weather is killin' me._ Suddenly there is a movement, and I forget all about the cramp. _What the hell is that?_

Something is coming toward me—something pretty damn big.

 _Geez, what the_... I slide up, slowly, with my back against the tree, and peek around the side. It is getting closer and I can smell something. Like rotten leaves or—bear? _Nah! It smells different, much stronger._ I can hear something now. Leaves rustling, a branch snaps, and another thought pops into my mind. _No way! Couldn't be!_

It is getting closer, then the sound suddenly stops. Dead quiet again, only my own breath and the blood pounding in my ears. _Damn, where did it go? Behind me!_ I spin around, bring up the MPK, and—

I stare up, my mouth dropping open. Of all things I might have expected, this sure isn't one of them.

This face, almost human, is towering a good two feet over me. I slowly lower the barrel of the MPK, still staring. If anyone had ever told me, I would have thought them completely crazy.

He is just standing there, looking down at me. Then he grabs hold of the MPK, and there is nothing I can do when he rips it out of my hand. An angry grunt, and he tosses it aside.

Finally I come back to life. Ducking out one of the huge paws—or should I say hands—reaching for me, I roll clear. Instantly back on my feet, I am just in time to catch a hit in the chest that knocks the wind out of me. Falling backwards, I keep rolling toward the spot where the MPK lays. My hand reaches out, but he is already there. _Damn, he is fast!_ The realization that I don't stand a chance is the last thing, then the lights go out.

 _Damn leaves! Ouch, my head! What the fuck happened?_ Trying to put my thoughts together, I squint up at the green canopy overhead. The drizzle has started again. _Guess that's what woke me. How long was I out? Couple of minutes at the most._ I sit up with a flinch. There is a nice 'mouse' on my forehead. _Okay, where is he?_ It is a comforting feeling when I reach for the .45 behind my back. _Still there. Good! Thanks for the backup, Cut._ I don't intend to shoot him, at least not right away. This is just too intriguing. _What is this thing? Or better say who? He was there, no doubt in my mind. And I am here, buried in a bunch of leaves. Just like Cut and Jimmy. So what's gonna happen next? Damn, Chase, this can't be. Things like that don't exist...at least not here in the real world. I gotta go. I gotta find Cut and Chief, before Micheals gets a hold of 'em. I gotta_...

That is as far as I get, then _he_ is suddenly back. I never heard him coming, but he is there and I stare again. _Geez!_ I jump up, reaching for the Llama. My hand comes around, and he moves so fast, I don't even have time to blink. A thump, my shoulder pops, and the Llama flies through the air. _Shit!_ I still give him my best shot. My round-house kick catches his belly, and it feels like I just kicked a brick wall. He grunts, and I barely duck out a swipe of his hand.

Jumping back, I trip over something and stumble. His next move knocks me off my feet, my right shoulder hits the ground, and that is all she wrote. I can take pain, but this is just a little too much. Nothing I can do when he picks me up by the belt, throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and takes off. My head is spinning, and the ground is flying by, 90 miles an hour it seems like. _Fuck-up number three, Chase! Never underestimate your opponent. Little late for that now._

I have not the slightest idea how far the trip goes. Then suddenly he slows down and ducks low. It gets dark and cold. _Looks like some kind of a cave or so. Where the hell is he taking me?_

Getting lighter again, I can see the ground once more, flying again, then stopping. A grunt, and he drops me. No, actually he lays me down very gently. I look up and—he is gone. Looking around, I squint, and Cut grins from ear to ear.


	19. Day 18 (part 2)

**Day 18-2**

"Hi, Chase, how was the ride?"

"Geez..." I wince and grab my shoulder, sitting up.

"You alright?"

"Fuck no, I ain't alright, Cut! What the hell is going on? Where the fuck are we?"

"Sasquatch manor!" He is still grinning, but I don't consider it funny at all. "Your shoulder out again?"

"Hell, yeah! He sure put up a good fight."

"Looks like. Whopped 'im, didn't ya?"

"Oh, shut up!" I snap irritated, struggling to my knees. _Damn shoulder! Been dislocated so many times, it pops out whenever it wants to now._

"Need some help?"

I turn at the familiar voice, and Chief has a smirk on his face.

"You're here, too?"

"Yeah," Cut answers instead, serious now. "Damn, Chase, there's a whole bunch of guys here. Fifteen or so in all."

"What?"

"Chase?" Jimmy breaks in, motioning to my shoulder.

A nod from me, and a flinch from Cut at the sickening pop when the joint snaps back into place.

"Thanks, man!"

Jimmy just smiles quietly.

"Okay, so what's goin' on here, Cut?" I look around, gingerly rotating my arm to work the stiffness out of it. _What a place!_

We are in a huge canyon-like spot, rock-walls going straight up on all sides. The trees and bushes are so thick, I can't even make out where we had come through. _Geez, Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore!_

"Well," Cut interrupts my observation, "like I said, we ain't the only ones here."

"Who are the others?"

"You ain't gonna believe this..."

"I'll believe _anything_ now. Just fill me in, will ya?"

"Well," he drawls again and Chief grins. "Found them guys we's looking for. They been up here all along. Kelly's dad too, and a couple more. Seems he brought 'em in here, so they wouldn't get anywhere near them chemicals."

"Huh?"

"It's true, Chase. He's tryin' to keep 'em safe. Like Jimmy and me...we's halfway back to the camp when we come across a bunch of tracks. Wasn't ours, I could tell. We held up to check things out. Jimmy thought I'd better sit down." He gives him an indignant look, then continues and I don't interrupt. "He didn't come back and I's startin' to get worried. By the way, did you get the asshole that shot me?" he suddenly changes the subject.

"Sure did. Jimmy patch up your shoulder?" I ask since it is nicely wrapped.

"Nope, _he_ did! Dug the bullet out an' all. Real good job too. Didn't even hurt."

"You gotta be kiddin' me!"

"Nope!" he shrugs. "Damn, Chase, did you get a close look?"

"Too close! I still don't believe it though..."

"Pretty wild, huh? Sure puts things in a whole new perspective."

Chief interrupts the conversation, getting Cut's attention and signs something.

"Good question," Cut agrees. "How _did_ he get you?"

"Well..." I scratch my head and start to explain what happened down at the camp.

"A tunnel?" he breaks in when I get to that point.

"Yeah, that's how I got out. Man, Micheals sure didn't waste any time."

"How many's down there?"

"A bunch, Cut. Thought for sure they'd gotten you two."

"Probably would have," he answers dryly. "Anyways, what happened next?"

"Not much. Thought I'd cut back around to see what's going on. Didn't get that far though. Buck went nuts and took off. Hope he's alright. Anyway..." I continue with the rest of the story, and he is quiet for a long time after I finish.

Chief taps his arm again and signs when he looks over.

"Yeah. Look, Chase, Jimmy's right. We gotta get outa here."

"No, shit! And just how are we gonna do that?"

"Simple! We'll explain the situation to 'im."

"Huh?" I guess I am not looking real bright again, because Cut snickers and Jimmy smirks, signing something else.

"Right! Get this, man, we found out somethin' real interesting about this guy."

"Like what?"

"Well..." Cut hesitates, giving me a weird look.

"Oh, just come out with it."

"Well," he repeats, "he can actually communicate."

"Huh?" another 'smart' reply from me.

"I'm serious, man. He uses ancient Indian sign-language. At least that's what Jimmy says it is."

I squint at Chief, and he shows no reaction. _Just try to keep an open mind, Chase._ I can't quite convince myself. _Okay, so we can communicate...maybe. Geez, this is too much!_

"Chase?" Chief gets my attention, then signs to Cut.

"Look," he starts real serious, "I know you don't believe it, but I swear it's true. Jimmy talked to him before." I don't say anything and he continues. "We found out by accident, 'cause Jimmy was telling me something and he stood there watching real hard. I 'bout freaked when he come closer and started signin' back. Took a while, but Jimmy finally figured out what it was. It's almost like a whole different language, but he knows some of it."

"You never cease to amaze me, man." I squint at Chief again and get an indifferent shrug this time. "So what did he say?"

Some more quick signs and Cut translates for me. "They got talking about what's going on up here. That's how we found out about the others too. Like I said, he's been bringing them here to get 'em out of the way."

"So he understands what is happening?"

"Sure does. 'Cording to what Jimmy told me, he's pretty bright."

"Yeah, but, Cut..." I shake my head, still trying to come up with a logical explanation.

"I know. Hard to believe, ain't it?"

"Got that right. I was ready to shoot 'im, but he just looked too much like people."

"Yeah," Cut smirks, "guess we watched 'Harry and the Hendersons' a few times too many."

"You know, that's exactly what I was thinking, looking at 'im." I finally grin, too. "Okay, so where is _Harry_ now?"

"Don't know," Cut laughs and looks around. "He comes and goes so quick."

"Where are the other guys?"

"Oh, around here somewhere. Chase, you don't know the half of it yet. This place is like a little Fort or something. There's all kinda caves in those walls. Neanderthal City." He is serious and I hold back on a smartass remark.

Chief pushes to his feet, and we try to see what he is looking at.

Then _he_ is suddenly there.

_Geez, I still don't believe it. Never seen anything like it before._

This guy is at least seven-foot-eight, covered with hair, but other than that he looks so human, it is almost scary. His eyes is what really gets me. They are gentle, totally calm, and full of understanding.

I swallow hard, getting to my feet. He walks closer, and I can have a better look.

 _Wait a minute!_ The realization hits me hard. "Cut," I whisper.

"Yeah, man?"

"This ain't the same one that brought me here."

"Huh?" Now he is doing it.

"I'm serious. The one who caught me had a scar on his arm. I just noticed it, 'cause it stood out real clear against the hair."

"Damn, Chase..." He doesn't say any more because 'Harry' starts signing to Chief.

 _This is gonna be interesting_ , I think when Jimmy turns and signs to Cut. _Now I need a translation for the translation._ I get it right away, too.

"Hey, Chase," Cut starts with a grin, "he wants to know if you're alright."

"Not sure, Cut! Pinch me will ya?...Ouch! Okay, I'm awake."

"Good! He wants us to come along."

"Where to?"

"Don't know...Jimmy?"

Some more signs, and Cut relays the answer. "Says he wants you to come, meet the other guys."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

We fall in behind our hairy friend, and I am glad that Cut actually looks as lost as me, watching Chief exchange signs with the guy on the way. He just turns one time and motions back to us.

"Says he'll fill us in later," Cut informs me.

"Great! Geez, Cut, this thing really beats all."

"Sure does. By the way, what the hell did you mean before when you said it ain't the same one?"

"Like I told you, the one that brought me here had a scar. This one doesn't."

"You know of course what that means, don't you?"

"Yeah," I answer somber. "Now I'm just wondering how many of 'em there are."

"Guess we gonna find out. We ain't had no time to look around real close yet, but what I've seen so far, damn, Chase..." he interrupts himself. It seems we have reached our destination.


	20. Day 18 (part 3)

**Day 18-3**

There is a wide cleft in the rock-wall, about five feet above ground and we climb up. The entrance is tight, but after a couple hundred feet it opens into a huge cave. The first thing that catches my eye is a nice, cozy fire, and a group of men leisurely lounging around like they belong here. I get some curious looks when we walk in, and a tall, skinny guy with gray hair gets up and comes toward us.

"Hey, Frank," Cut greets him with a smile. "Want you to meet my buddy Chase. Chase, this is Frank Hughes...Kelly's dad."

"Sir!" I shake his hand and he grins.

"Just call me Frank."

"Okay, good to meet you, Frank," I nod back.

"So you are the notorious Sergeant Riggin? Man, Billy sure told me a lot about you."

"Nothing good I'm afraid?"

"Nah, he thinks very highly of you. But anyways, I see you decided to join our little party here."

"Actually I didn't have much choice in the matter."

"None of us did," he laughs ruefully. "Look, Sergeant, there's some serious shit going on up here. Not all of it quite natural."

"Know what you mean there," I agree with a glance over at 'Harry'. "So who are these other gentlemen?"

"Come on, I'll introduce you," Cut volunteers and we step toward the group.

Fourteen of them, I count quickly. They all appear to be in pretty good shape, but it is obvious that some of them have been here quite a while. Seven of the men are dressed in regular military BDUs, five wear the black jumpsuits like I had seen on the sniper, the other two seem to be civilians.

"Gentlemen," Cut gets their attention, "may I introduce Sergeant Chase Riggin."

_Geez, Cut, any more formal and you'd think we're in church._

He draws some wide grins however, and I get a bunch of friendly handshakes.

"Pretty good, huh, Chase?" he smirks. "Guess we found 'em all."

"Sure looks like it. How long have you been here, Sergeant?" I direct my question to one of the soldiers—Sergeant Drake, according to the almost faded nametag and the rank insignia on his uniform.

"Me personally, since September twenty-second last year."

"Man..." I exhale a long breath and count in my mind.

"Eleven months and four days," Cut comes back while I am still thinking.

_He always was better with math._

"God, it didn't seem that long," the Sergeant smiles wry. "I suppose they have us written off by now, don't they?"

"Not at all," I assure him, then draw him off to the side, a little away from the Government Agents. "Look, let me just say this much for now, there is something going on in this area and we have stirred up a bit of heat about it."

He gives me a curious squint, but asks no questions, and our conversation is over when Chief steps beside me and taps my shoulder.

"He wants to talk to you," Cut translates with a nod toward 'Harry'.

"Why me?" The question earns me the familiar "don't know" sign.

"Maybe he thinks you're in charge here," Cut chuckles.

I deliberately ignore it and reply instead, a little embarrassed, "Great! Jimmy, I guess you gonna have to help me out on that."

"No problem," Chief answers impassively and motions me along.

I look up again, still in amazement of the guy's size, watching what he signs.

Jimmy nods, then turns to me. "He wants to know, how you found the tunnel."

I don't answer right away, too surprised, one at the question, and two, because Chief doesn't have Cut translate for him. "Well," I finally admit, "actually I was the one who dug that tunnel, years ago. Don't ask me why, it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. But how does he know about it?"

Jimmy shrugs and signs to 'Harry' again, stopping every now and then, apparently thinking of the correct way to say what he means to. I am sure not one to be easily impressed, but I have to admit that I am in this case. _Damn Chase, he deserves a lot more credit than you thought._

Chief regains my attention. "They have been in there to check it out," he answers my previous question. "Chase, he asked, if you have anything to do with..." he hesitates and gives a few signs to Cut, looking frustrated.

"With the chemicals up here," Cut helps out.

"You know damn well, I don't," I snap, earning myself a puzzled squint from Chief.

"I know. But he asked why we went up there."

"Well? Did you explain it to him?"

"Yes!" he replies scarcely.

"So what the hell is the problem then?" I start to get impatient.

"Chase," Cut breaks in, "I think I know. Jimmy, see if you'n explain to him that we're trying to get somethin' done about it."

A nod from Chief and he turns back to 'Harry'.

"Thanks, Cut."

"You're welcome. Just keep cool, alright?"

"I'm trying like hell, man, but this is just too weird."

"No, shit! Being interrogated by Bigfoot ain't really your average, everyday thing."

Both of us snicker despite the situation, then another thought comes to mind.

"Jimmy!" I place a hand on his shoulder. "Think you can get it through to him that we _have to_ leave here?"

"I'll try..."

"Wait a minute." I keep him from turning. "Maybe if you explain that there's some people on the way up here who can help. But we have to be able to get to them, before they run into the agents down at the camp."

He acknowledges with a short nod and signs to 'Harry' once more.

I watch for a reaction in the hairy face—there is none. Only a thoughtful look at Cut and me, then over at the others. They are staring at us. _Probably wondering if we're gonna sell 'em out. That's definitely how I would feel._

"Hey, Cut, why don't you go fill 'em in on what's going on," I suggest with a sideways glance at the group of men.

"Think that's a good idea?"

"Couldn't hurt nothing. I'm just wondering how much those government boys know."

"Not sure, Chase. Maybe I'n find out?"

"Yeah, go do that."

He gives me a quizzical look, then walks over nevertheless.

"Chase," Chief sounds rather serious, "we can't leave."

"Damn, Jimmy, we have to. At least I do."

"I know, but..."

"But what?"

He doesn't answer, just glances across the room toward Cut.

A grunt from 'Harry', and since Chief can't hear it I tap him on the shoulder, getting his attention. He turns around and I motion with my thumb. _This would almost be funny if it wasn't so serious._

"Well, Chase," Cut is coming back, "you ain't gonna believe this, but I really think they don't know."

"None of 'em?" I squint surprised.

"None except Frank."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty much. Seems them agents were really just up here lookin' for Drake and his bunch, and Sarge and them had come to find Bigfoot."

"Geez, Cut..." I shake my head.

"So what's going on now, Chase?"

"No idea! Apparently he don't want us to leave, at least that's what Jimmy said. Hell, them two been arguin' in sign-language for a good five minutes now."

"Seen that," Cut snickers, and I can't help but do the same. For some reason though, we are met by a puzzled look from the hairy guy.

Chief turns, signs quickly, and frowns when we keep grinning.

"Damn, Chase, Harry thinks we're makin' fun of 'im," Cut mumbles, trying to be serious. "Jimmy says, to quit the bullshit or we'll never get outa here."

"Okay, okay!" I put on my best straight face. "So does that mean he'll let us go?"

"Maybe," Chief answers scarcely, then switches back to signs.

"He says, Harry's worried about us gettin' hurt," Cut relays. "He watched us check out the chemicals, and by the way, that's how the other one got the scar. You hit 'im, blasting the trees."

"I did?"

"Yup! But he says don't worry about it. Anyways, they seen it when I got shot, and took me and Jimmy so we wouldn't run into them agents. You just made it to the camp 'cause you came around the other way."

"Damn..."

"Jimmy says, Harry understands what he's told 'im, you know, why we gotta go. But apparently he thinks we don't stand a chance."

"Maybe not, but that's a risk we have to take."

"I told him," Chief confirms. "And he understands."

"So?"

"We can go."

"Great! Thanks, Jimmy!" I exhale a sigh of relief, but know he didn't get the "thank you" because he is looking at 'Harry' again.

"Now we just got one little problem." Cut scratches his head.

"No firepower, right?" I am thinking the same thing.

"Exactly! So what we gonna do about that?"

"Don't know yet, Cut. Maybe my MPK and the Llama are still at the spot where the other one caught me."

"Doubt that, Chase. They don't leave no evidence."

"We know _that_ now, don't we?"

"Yeah," he chuckles low. "By the way, Jimmy and I figured that one out, too."

"What one?"

"Well, you know the thing with gettin' buried in the leaves. They do that to get you off a little ways, then they go back and erase all tracks before they bring you here."

"Oh!" It dawns on me now. "So when I found Jimmy that time and saw something runnin'..."

"Yeah! You scared 'im off. And when he had me, I just woke up too quick and got outa there before he came back."

"Same here," I admit. "I was up too, just thought I'd stick around to get a closer look."

"Little closer than you thought, wasn't it?" he says with a nasty smirk on his face.

Chief breaks our conversation with a snap of his fingers and signs.

"Oh, man! Guess what, Chase..."

"What, Cut?"

"Jimmy says, he explained the problem with the guns to Harry, and we don't gotta worry about it. They're all here."

"No kidding?"

"No kiddin' at all. Come on, he's gonna show us where they're at."

#####

I can't believe my eyes as we walk over into another one of the caves. It is smaller than the first, but when 'Harry' lights a torch, we can see that it is stocked to the ceiling with guns, ammo, explosives, and several other kinds of military equipment. An arsenal of weapons and gear.

"Jesus Christ the Almighty!" Cut mutters between his teeth. "Look at this shit, Chase. There's enough here to hold off a fuckin' army for a year."

I don't answer, but start checking around instead. M16s, M60s, AR15s, 'Grease'-Guns—I stroll along the line, stopping at a .50 caliber Barrett M82 Sniper Rifle that stands out like a sore thumb.

I turn back and get Chief's attention. "Jimmy, can you ask him where they got all this stuff?"

A few quick signs, and 'Harry' stares over at me with a sad expression—at least that is what it looks like from under all that hair.

 _Now what did I say_? I get the answer right away from Jimmy.

"It doesn't matter, just take what you need."

"Okay then, Cut let's go see."

He walks up beside me, still grumbling beneath his breath.

I pick out one of the MPKs, not sure whether it is the same I had before since there are several of them. The Llamas are easily found, and so is Cut's Bullpup. Jimmy's SIG is here, too, right beside his Bowie knife. He sure looks happy to get _it_ back. Finding matching rounds for all six guns doesn't pose a problem either.

"Hey, Cut, look what I found," I grin, holding up three blocks of C-4.

"Damn, Chase, what you gonna do with that?"

"Don't know yet, but it just might come in handy for somethin'...Jimmy, ask him if it's okay to take a few."

Chief squints uncomfortably, but then signs to 'Harry' anyway. "It's okay!" he comes back with the answer.

"Great! Tell him I said thanks."

"Hey, Chase," Cut wears that solemn expression again, "what about the others?"

I hesitate, because this is something I haven't considered yet.

"We can't just leave 'em here, but we can't drag 'em along neither."

"Right!" I agree, rubbing my forehead. "Look, maybe we...no, that won't work. Damn!"

"Let's go talk to 'em," Cut suggests. "That Sergeant Drake seems to be a pretty reasonable guy."

"Yeah, I had that impression, too. Besides, somehow I got the feeling we ain't the only ones who been set up. Sure would like to..."

"Chase," Jimmy breaks in, looking uncomfortable again.

"What's up?" Cut inquires for me, getting some hasty signs in return. "Shit! Look, Chase, Jimmy says, Harry's real worried about keepin' this place a secret."

"Little late for that, ain't it?"

"Not really, considerin' once you're in here, you can't find a way out. Believe me, I tried. Apparently they been livin' here for generations, without anyone findin' 'em."

"Tell him not to worry about it, Jimmy. I don't intend to let this get out in any way."

Chief squints unconvinced, but relays the message to 'Harry' nevertheless.

A curious look from the big guy. _Guess he's still in doubt about me._

"Chase, I got a suggestion," Cut changes the subject.

"What's that, man?"

"Well, how about we stay here tonight? It's pretty comfortable, you know. Would give us some time to talk things over anyways, figure out how we gonna work this shit. What you think?"

I hesitate, actually thinking about Buck at the moment. He is out there somewhere, and I can't help but worry about him.

"Well?" Cut inquires impatiently.

"Well," I finally respond, "I'm sure as hell curious about this place. Like to look around a little closer, see what all is here, but..."

"But what?"

"Damn, Cut, Buck's still out there. If he gets the notion of headin' back to the camp..."

"Ah, he'll be alright. He'n take care of himself just fine. Besides, he's been runnin' around out there for the last two weeks now. Bet he's on first name basis with every tree and bush by now," he grins roguishly.

"Guess you got a point. I's just thinking about that bunch of trigger-happy assholes down at the camp."

"So what if he bites a couple of 'em? Would just do us a favor. Oh, come on, Chase, quit worryin' so much. This place is great, and the menu here is a definite improvement over them damn MREs."

"You ever think about anything besides food?" I can't help but laugh.

"Sure do! Didn't happen to bring a few beers up by any chance, did ya?"

I just roll my eyes and shake my head.


	21. Day 18 (part 4)

**Day 18-4**

Following Cut's suggestion, we return to the large cave. Chief has an animated discussion going with 'Harry', but I figure he will fill us in later. We leave the weapons and ammunition outside, hidden in a crevice beside the cave entrance—at least for now. I don't want the men inside to know anything about them yet.

 _Now comes the hard part. Getting the situation we're in through to these guys._ There are a whole lot of extremely concerned looks when we walk in. _Better make it good, Chase, or you'll end up with a mutiny on your hands._

"Gentlemen," I start with drawing a deep breath, "I would like to speak with the agent in charge."

A dark-haired, stocky built guy—he is maybe in his mid-forties—gets up. "That would be me, Sergeant," he says, coming over. "What is going on?"

"Hold on a second, Sir….Sergeant Drake," I wave him over too, then pull both of them off to the side a little further. "Gentlemen, we need to talk."

"What is going on?" the dark-haired agent—I still don't know his name—repeats, starting to get impatient.

 _Great! Looks like he's gonna be a lot of fun to deal with._ "Sir..." I hesitate.

"Wayne Perry," he introduces himself.

"Thank you, Agent Perry. Now, what I need to know first, how much are you aware of what's going on in this area?"

Drake and Perry exchange a somewhat puzzled look, then Drake glances over toward 'Harry' and shrugs.

"Well, Sergeant," he turns back to me, "I've been here quite a while, but I still can't believe it's true. We actually found Bigfoot. Or better say, he found us," he grins wryly.

"Sergeant," I rub my forehead, "that wasn't what I meant."

"Huh?" Both of them say it at the same time.

"Look, like I mentioned before, there is something going on here, and we've stirred up a little heat about it."

"Yeah," Drake remembers, "I was wondering about that remark when you made it. Could you fill us in?"

I can see it in Perry's face that he is really in the dark about the situation as well.

"Okay!" I get back to Drake's request. "One condition...this conversation stays between the three of us. At least for now. Agreed?"

Perry gives me an affirmative nod right away, but Drake hesitates. "Sergeant, maybe you should talk to the Lieutenant instead. He is in charge of us soldiers."

"I'm not much for pulling rank. If you feel it's necessary, you can always fill him in later, okay?"

"If you say so, Sergeant, then it's fine with me." He smiles a little.

"Good! Now listen," I continue low, "it seems there is a major cover-up going on in this area, concerning the illegal disposal of chemical agents..."

"What?" Perry blurts out.

"Sir!" I interrupt him quickly because we get some very curious looks from the other men. "Please, Sir, let me explain the situation."

"I'm sorry, go ahead," he mutters irritated.

"Alright, just keep it down. Anyway, we have found large quantities of Nerve- and Blister-agents, dumped in a valley. And when I say dumped, I literally mean _dumped_. They are brought here, at the rate of approximately fifty barrels per year, and covered later by blasting a piece of mountain down on top of them," I relate, according to the information Kelly gave us and what we had seen with our own eyes.

"Nonsense, Sergeant. Who would do something so stupid?" Perry barely hold his voice down.

"Well, Sir, apparently there is at least one of your agent colleagues involved in this."

"No way!"

"I'm afraid so, Sir. To be honest, I don't think I was sent up here to find you and your men, but rather to make sure none of you would return, should you, by accident, have found any of this."

"Oh, bull, Sergeant," Perry laughs pressed.

"Alright then, let me ask you this, Sir. Why would there be an attempt on our lives, made by a sniper, wearing the same kind of jumpsuit as your men over there, carrying a standard M14 and no ID. And why would there be about twenty agents, including the one who sent me to find you, come to our camp and try to blow my damn head off?" I rattle the whole thing off in one angry breath.

Perry doesn't answer, just stares at me, a derisive look on his face.

"Man," Sergeant Drake responds instead, "how did you guys end up in a mess like that?"

"Finding something we weren't supposed to."

"What? You went and told them?"

"Of course not, Sergeant. We're not that stupid. But like I said, we suspect that our whole mission up here was a set-up from the very beginning. You and your men are probably the only ones who really came because of the surveillance photos from last year. Everything else was just a farce."

"Now wait a minute, Sergeant," Perry finally breaks in, "my men and I were sent here to find Lieutenant Walker and his people."

"That's what you were made to believe. Just like I was under the impression, I was looking for all you guys."

"So? Where is the cover-up?" He is still not convinced.

"Damn it, Sir," I go off, "don't you see? You were sent to make sure that the soldiers were either dead or, should they return, could be silenced before any of this gets out. And I was sent to do the same for all of you."

"Sounds pretty farfetched," Perry sneers, and I roll my eyes. "Why would anyone want to put us away for something we don't even know?"

"You still don't get it, do you?" I snap—to hell with the courtesy. "The person, who is responsible for all this, doesn't really give a fuck whether you know anything or not. He's just hell-bent on covering his own ass in the matter, 'cause if the truth gets out he's going down, faster than he'n say _shit_."

"Sergeant!" Perry snaps back now.

"Sorry, Sir. Didn't mean to get carried away."

"Whatever! Look, I understand your concern. If any of what you just said is true, we have a very serious situation on our hands here."

_No, shit!_

Frank Hughes steps beside us. "Excuse me, Sergeant Riggin, I don't mean to butt in. Seems to me though, you have a little trouble convincing Mister Perry?"

"Wait a minute," Perry squints suspiciously, "how could you know what we're talking about?"

"Well, Sir," Hughes scratches his head and gives me a curious sideways glance, "going by your reaction, Sergeant Riggin just filled you in on the fact that there are chemical agents dumped in this area, right?"

"How...?" Perry's mouth drops open, and I am thinking, _Hughes must've talked to Cut before I got here._

"Unfortunately, Sir," Hughes responds to Perry's unfinished question, "I have seen 'em with my own eyes. Ain't a pretty sight, believe me."

"And you think Sergeant Riggin is right?" Drake inquires.

" 'Bout what?"

"That there is a cover-up going on?"

"You'n bet your ass, there is. I'm not in the military or anything, but...well, let me just say I got connections. And when Government people start shootin' at their own guys, then there's definitely somethin' goin' on that ain't all straight."

"Hmmm..." Perry seems to get thoughtful at last.

"Look, Sir," I push the issue, "whether you believe me or not is actually besides the point. I just thought I'd fill you in, so you would understand what has to happen next."

"And what would that be, Sergeant?"

"Well, like I told you, there's a whole bunch of agents down at our camp, waiting for us. We would probably be better off just sticking it out here for a while, but there is one little problem."

"Like what?"

"Like a good friend of ours, on his way up here to help straighten this whole mess out. If he runs into those agents...no telling what's going to happen. So we have to get out of here and try to catch him before any damage is done."

"Wait a second! Who is this person, and how could he straighten anything out?" Perry is suspicious again.

"Like I said, he is a good friend. Someone we can trust. We sent a message to him after we found the chemicals. He has connections all over the Military and the Government." I beat around the bush, not wanting to give a hint to Hughes that I am actually talking about his brother.

"All right, so when are we going to leave?" Drake asks.

 _Oh, shit! That's the problem part._ "Look, Sergeant..." I hesitate, not quite sure how to explain this one.

"You wasn't plannin' on runnin' off and just leavin' us here, were you?" Hughes laughs halfheartedly and I think, _Oh, shit!_ again.

"Sergeant?" Perry squints hard.

"Look, guys...now wait a minute and let me explain," I cut all three of them off. "This is a pretty touchy situation out there. The slightest mistake and we all gonna be history. I swear, we'll come back for you guys as soon as it's over, but...just hear me out, damn it," I snap when Perry opens his mouth. "I can't risk getting all of you in danger, because of something we started. You all have been here so long, a couple more days won't make a difference. So just sit tight and let us handle that shit, so we can all go home."

"What if you can't?" Drake throws in, dead serious. "What if something _does_ go wrong out there anyway? Then we're stuck up here until hell freezes over, because no one will ever know. You said yourself, they had you outnumbered down there."

"Look, Sergeant, how about if I promise you that, should we not return in...let's say one week from now...you could all still go home? Would that make you feel better?"

"And how exactly is this supposed to happen?" Perry sneers. "What? Those things up here will just put us on the next train that comes by?"

"No, Sir!" I snap irritated. "For your information, in case you haven't noticed, those _things_ are highly intelligent creatures. Call them what you want...Bigfoot, Sasquatch, monsters, whatever, believe they exist or not...none of it matters, considering the fact that they know _exactly_ what the presence of these chemicals up here means."

"Nonsense! How could they?" Perry says, so scornful, I get a strong urge to punch him.

"Why do you think they brought you here? For dinner?" I ask instead.

"How should I know?"

"Well, let me enlighten you then, Sir." Now I am sneering. "You were brought here to get you out of harm's way. Apparently they understand the danger these chemicals pose very well. And for some unexplainable reason they actually care about us ignorant humans."

"What a crock of shit!"

"I don't think so, Perry," Drake disagrees thoughtfully. "I know it sounds stupid, but I've been up here long enough to change my way of thinking a little. Seems to me, the Sergeant is right. I mean when he says they are intelligent. Did you watch earlier? That big one, talking with the Indian in sign-language? Just about freaked me out. How does he know anyways?"

"Well," I muse, since the last question is directed at me, "for one, my friend uses sign-language because he is deaf. To be honest, I was just as surprised as you that he could communicate with...well, I call him _Harry_. Anyway, according to my friend, the signs they're using are ancient. The only reason _he_ knows 'em is because of his Indian heritage."

"Wonderful!" Perry sneers again, and I am definitely getting on the edge. "So what did they talk about? Recipes for buffalo-stew?"

 _Now I have had it_! "You really are an ignorant son-of-a-bitch!" I yell and he flinches. "No, man, they talked about dumbass humans, poisoning this whole fuckin' area, killin' off their own species and everything else that walks, crawls, swims or flies."

"Damn it, Sergeant, get a grip!" Perry yells back. "You talk to me like that again, and I'll have your stripes and your ass in a frying pan."

"I don't give a fuck what you do, Perry. I came up here to save your sorry ass and you give me a hard time. I don't need that shit. Do what you want. Go out there and get your damn head blown off. Just stay out of my way, 'cause if anything goes wrong and one of my friends ends up dead, I'll personally blow your brains out." With this, I turn and walk off, leaving all three of them standing there, Perry red-faced, ready to explode, Drake with his mouth open, and Hughes with a shit-eating grin on his face.

#####

"Geez, man, what was that all about?" Cut snickers when I get back over to him. "I thought you's ready to punch that guy's lights out any minute."

" 'Bout got that right, Cut," I answer, sitting down on the rock-ledge he is on to calm myself.

"He give you a bunch of shit or somethin'?"

"Sure did, man. First he don't believe a word I'm saying, and then he starts making fun of Jimmy and Harry about the sign-language thing."

"Good thing I wasn't over there, or he would've really lost a couple of teeth." Cut flashes Perry a withering glare. "So what's the deal now, Chase?"

"Hell, I don't know, Cut. Where's Jimmy anyways?"

"Somewhere outside, talkin' with fuzzy-nuts," he laughs, and I can't help but do the same.

_Always got a way to make me feel better, even if it's just a smartass remark._

"Excuse me, Sergeant?" Drake comes over and I squint, irritated again. "I just wanted to tell you, sorry for all the hassle," he continues anyway. "And what you said...I can see your point."

"Which one?" I ask dryly.

"All of them," he assures me. "And I understand why you got so upset. Perry is a little hard to deal with. We found that out quite a while ago, but..." He hesitates embarrassed.

"But what?" Cut grumbles. "Look, man, we're here tryin' to help. We don't need anyone givin' us a hard time. Got enough shit to worry about as it is."

"Yes, I heard that from the Sergeant, and like I said, I understand. But you have to see our situation too. We have been up here for so long, thought we were considered dead and no one would ever find us. Then you guys show up and we get a glimpse of hope..."

"Look, Drake," I sigh in frustration, "I really did try my best to explain the situation we're in right now. Obviously Perry doesn't believe a word I said. Well, I don't give a damn. Sure wish I had never told him though, because if he fucks up, I don't wanna be the one who gets held responsible for it."

"You wouldn't be," Drake answers thoughtfully. "I am sure I'll be able to convince Lieutenant Walker and our men to stay here and wait for a few more days. But as far as the agents are concerned..."

"If you could just talk to your guys, Sergeant, that would already be a big help. Guess I'll have another go-around with Perry. Maybe he'll see the light after all... that is, if I don't punch it out for 'im first," I add, getting somewhat of a roguish grin from Drake. _Seems like he wouldn't mind too much if I really did that._

"Want me go talk to 'im?" Cut asks sly. "I promise, I'll be real nice."

"Sure," I smirk. "Your idea of nice probably put him to sleep for a week."

"That would solve the problem though, wouldn't it?"

I don't get around to answer because Jimmy returns at that moment. He is alone, but has an excited look on his face as he signs to Cut.

"Wow! Get this, guys!" Cut grins at Drake and me. "Jimmy says, Harry's been showin' him around a little, and he got to meet some of the others."

"That's sure more than we were allowed to do, all this time we have been here," Drake mumbles sullenly. "But of course we couldn't talk to them either."

"Looks like they took pretty good care of you though," I muse.

"Oh, definitely. We didn't have to ask for anything. Not like we could have anyway. Only thing I been missing all this time was maybe a beer and a cigarette every now and then. Other than that..."

"Well, we'n sure help with the second...here!" Cut hands him what is left of his pack of Marlboros, and Drake's face lights up like a Christmas tree.

"I guess it's a little silly to start again after eleven months, but thanks, man!"

"Welcome! You'n share 'em with the others if you want to."

"Great! That will make things easier. So, are you going to talk to Perry yourself?"

"Yeah, I think I better," I answer, since his question is directed at me.

"Well, good luck! Just don't hit him too hard." He grins again, and I get a questioning look from Jimmy when Drake leaves to talk to the soldiers.

"You don't wanna know," I answer the unspoken question, rolling my eyes. "So, what all did you find out, talking to Harry?" I return to the previous subject.

A broad smile and he sits down beside us, signing quickly.

"He says, there's over thirty of 'em," Cut translates just as fast. "They been living here for generations, in these caves along the walls. This place used to be a volcano, millions of years ago, and the caves are just as old. They've pretty much kept to themselves all this time, since everyone's scared 'cause of what they look like."

"Wait!" I signal 'time-out' to Chief. "Slow down, Jimmy. Wait a second! If they kept to themselves, then how come they know Indian sign-language?"

An indifferent shrug, and he goes back to signing.

"For what he got out of Harry, it seems they are somehow descendants of an ancient tribe that was outcast for one reason or another. They didn't get into too many details, 'cause the signs they're using are so old, he's got a hard time figuring 'em all out."

"So, are we gonna get to meet the others too?" I inquire.

"If you want to," Chief answers directly this time.

"Sure would. You know where they're at?"

"Everywhere!" he smirks, then signs to Cut again.

"He says, they have adapted so well to their environment, there ain't no way you'n see 'em if they don't want you to."

"Now how come I find _that_ easy to believe," I snicker, thinking about all those so called 'Bigfoot hunters', running around in the woods without success.

"Chase?" Jimmy interrupts my thought.

"What?"

"He wants to know how we'n go about keeping this place a secret," Cut relays since Chief switches back to signs. "Says if all those guys get to go home, how we gonna make sure they don't say nothin'?"

"Well," I scratch my head, "you know, that's something I've been thinking about myself. To be honest, I have no idea whatsoever. Only thing we can hope for is they'd be too embarrassed to tell anyone. Like Kelly said, going around, telling people you seen Bigfoot, don't go over quite so good."

"Yeah," Cut grins, "I sure as hell ain't gonna say nothin' to nobody. Maybe we'n come up with a good story that'll explain where they've been all this time."

"Better be a _real_ good one, Cut," I grin back. "Just hope I'n get it through to Perry's stubborn ass that they gotta keep quiet about it."

"That oughta be interesting."

Another questioning look from Jimmy. He had missed my first go-around with the agent since he was outside with 'Harry'.

"If you gotta know," Cut enlightens him, "the guy's a total jerk. Don't believe in nothin' or nobody, and Chase an' me just tryin' to figure out which one of us gets to punch him first."

Chief rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then signs some more.

"He says you'n hit 'im later, Chase. Should come along while it's still light, if you wanna have a look around."

"Sounds good. Let's go, guys!"

#####

It sounds good, but doesn't happen. Perry comes storming over before we even get halfway to the cave entrance.

"Sergeant," he snaps with an unfriendly glare at Chief, "where do you think you are going? I demand to know what is going on."

_Oh, no! Maybe I ain't gonna wait 'til later after all._

"What the hell you mean, _demand_?" Cut answers for me. "We ain't your little..."

"I wasn't talking to you," Perry cuts him off. "You guys are under Government jurisdiction here, and will answer to me before taking any kind of action that concerns..."

"Sir," I interrupt him now, trying real hard to control my temper. "First of all, there is no jurisdiction here, whatsoever. Second, my partners are civilians, and third, we do not answer to anyone except my direct contact at Fort Lewis. Now if you're done, we would like to step outside and have a look around the area before dark."

"I will not allow..."

"Oh, shut up!" Cut breaks in again. "I ain't gonna take no shit from you, man. They sent us up here to find you, and we done that. Now if you don't like what we're doing... tough! Just file a formal complaint, and see if it'll get you anywhere."

Perry looks like he is ready to blow his top, especially when Cut grins in his face and walks out through the tunnel, pulling Jimmy along.

"Sergeant, this man is completely out of order. I will have both of you prosecuted for insubordination when we get back to..."

"If you don't start to be a little more cooperative," I interrupt once more, "all it takes is one word, and you'll never get out of here. Got it?"

"Are you threatening me, Sergeant?"

"Nah! Just take it as a little warning. I told you we are here to help, and I'll do my best to see that all of us make it home. So quit givin' me a hard time and let me do my job, okay?"

"Fine!" he snaps. "But I still think I have a right to know what's going on."

"Sure. There is just nothing going on right now," I answer, a little calmer. "We plan on staying here at least for tonight, and I was gonna talk to you later anyways."

"So where are you going now?"

"Like I said, we intend to check out the area a little."

"Mind if I come along?"

"Sir?" I squint suspiciously at his unexpected request.

"You heard me. I would like to check out a few things myself, if you don't mind."

"Thought you've had plenty of time to do that already? How long you been here?"

"Long enough. But I never had the pleasure of meeting a Bigfoot-interpreter, and..." That is as far as he gets.

I know full well what the smartass remark is hinting to, and go off like a box of firecrackers. Don't think he even sees the punch coming when my fist lands against the side of his jaw. _Damn, that hurt!_ I shake my hand.

Perry staggers back, but doesn't go down.

_Oh, shit!_

He roars and comes after me, swinging.

A quick block, and I duck out his left hook. _Damn, he's fast!_ But I am faster. Another block and my leg-sweep brings him off his feet.

He grunts, hitting the ground.

I stand ready for another charge, then suddenly get grabbed from behind, my arms pinned against my ribs. _Shit! What a grip!_ Nothing else I can do, so I throw my head back full blast. It slams into something soft and there is a grunt, but that is all.

Perry is back on his feet, a little shaky though, then Cut is there and gets a hold of him.

I am still 'tied-up', until Jimmy comes to my rescue, grinning and motioning something. The grip lets off. _What the...?_ I turn, and stare up into a furry face that looks like it has a smirk on it. _Harry?!_

"Damn, Chase, you always keep the fun part to yourself," Cut snickers, having a ball with his hold on Perry. "So what you want me do with 'im?"

"Oh, just put 'im down, Cut. Damn..." I rub my upper arms, squinting up at 'Harry' again. "Geez, you got a grip," I grin, and he tilts his head with a grunt.

"Look out!"

Cut's warning yell spins me around and I duck out Perry's sucker-punch.

Just as quick, 'Harry' grabs him and locks him up tight. Perry screams for help and struggles— Nothing doing! 'Harry' pulls him off the ground, kind of grins in his face, and gives him a couple of angry grunts.

"Please...tell him to put me down," Perry squeaks pitifully, holding still now. "Please..."

"Jimmy, tell 'im to let go," I say with a nod. _This is just too weird_ , I think, watching Chief put the message into signs.

Then 'Harry' opens his arms, dropping the Agent like a hot potato. Perry lands on his rear, and then just sits there, staring up, scared out of his wits. _By the look on his face, he'll need a change of pants._

"You gonna behave now?" Cut asks him, sounding dead serious, but obviously having a hard time keeping a straight face.

Another grunt from 'Harry' when Perry doesn't respond right away.

"Yes, yes, oh God, yes!" he squeals, scooting backwards.

"Good!" I say hard and he cringes.

"Please, Sergeant, just keep this thing away from me. Please, I'm sorry! I'll do anything!" He sounds so pathetic, I almost start to feel sorry for him—almost!

Jimmy gives me a hardly noticeable wink and quickly signs something to 'Harry'. The big guy takes one step toward Perry and lets out a roar that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Even Cut startles and Perry screams on top of his lungs.

"Sergeant...help...help!"

We finally can't hold back any longer and burst into laughter. Chief is grinning mischievously, and 'Harry' sounds like he is actually chuckling.

I am more surprised though, at the reaction from the group of men over by the fire. They have watched the whole thing without the slightest attempt of interfering. And, looking at them now, it seems every single one of these guys enjoys the hell out of seeing Perry grovel at our feet.

"Oh, get up, Perry." I am still laughing. "He ain't gonna hurt you."

"How can you be sure, Sergeant?" he asks with a terrified glance up at 'Harry'.

"If he wanted to hurt you...you would never get up again," Jimmy answers him calmly.

Perry's mouth drops open and Cut and I exchange a surprised look.

_That's gotta be the longest speech I've ever heard him make._

"I thought you said he is deaf?" Perry recovers at last.

"So?" I shrug with a grin at Chief. "Doesn't mean he can't talk."... _If he wants to!_

Jimmy returns my grin, then signs a few words.

"He says, close your mouth Perry, it's gettin' mighty drafty in here," Cut snickers, and the agent gives Chief a look like he definitely doesn't know what to make of him.

"Well, you gonna get up now, or you just gonna keep sittin' there, lookin' stupid?" Cut inquires with a sneer. "What? Cat got your tongue all of the sudden?" he continues since Perry is still staring.

"I'm...I'm," he stammers, turning red, then grapples to his feet with a cautious glance at 'Harry'.

"Now," I start when Perry is finally up, "think we'n handle things in a civilized manner?"

"Yes...of course, Sergeant...I...I didn't...I'm sorry!" He is still stuttering.

 _Learned a lesson, didn't ya? Just hope it did any good_ , I think, but say aloud, "Alright then, Agent Perry, if you don't mind, we would still like to carry out our intentions. If you wish to join us, you're welcome to do so..."

"Sergeant..." he interrupts hesitantly.

"Yes, Agent Perry?" I ask, with just a hint of a sneer.

"I would prefer to stay with my men, if this is okay with you?"

"Fine with me. Feel free to fill them in on the details of our previous conversation. I will be back to talk to them later."

"Yes, Sergeant, whatever you say," he mumbles, then turns quickly and hustles over toward the group of agents.

"Geez," Cut snickers, "sure got that puppy housebroke, Chase."

"Couldn't have done it without Harry," I say, with a grin up at the big guy that earns me a friendly grunt.

"So, we gonna go now, or what?" Cut queries.

"I guess so…Jimmy, tell Harry I said thanks for the help, and ask 'im if he's still in the mood for showing us around."

A few of signs back and forth, and Chief comes back with the answer quickly. "You're welcome...and yes."


	22. Day 18 (part 5)

**Day 18-5**

What a place! This crater has to be at least three miles in diameter. Most of the area is covered with growth, so thick, there doesn't seem to be a way through. Not the slightest hint of either exit or entrance. _Must look like just a green carpet from the air, and a regular mountain from the outside. Sure would explain why it can't be recognized for what it is on any surveillance photos._

'Harry' is leading us along a good-size creek, that is so full of minnows, it seems to glow. _Man, I bet there's more deer and bear in these woods than in all of Washington State put together. I wonder how they_...

"Jimmy?" Following the thought, I tap Chief's shoulder since he is walking in front of me with 'Harry'. "Can you ask him, how they hunt for meat?" I inquire when he looks back.

"They don't," he answers without even consulting the big guy.

"Huh?"

The 'bright' question earns me a roguish grin and some signs toward Cut.

"He says, he asked Harry that before. They don't eat meat."

"They don't?"

"Nope! Purely vegetarian."

"But..."

"Yeah, I's just thinking the same thing...Jimmy!" Now Cut taps him because he is looking forward again. "If they don't hunt, then what was the trap for, you stepped in?"

A pensive shrug and he turns, getting 'Harry's attention and signing. For some reason though, it seems the big guy isn't too happy about the question. He stops in mid-stride and signs back, looking irritated. _Now what?_

We get the answer pretty quick—at least Cut does—I have to wait a while until he translates.

"Jimmy says, the traps really _are_ for meat. They don't like to do it, but they know most people eat meat. And since they had all them guys up here for so long...well, they tried to make 'em as comfortable as possible."

"So they just did it for them?" I ask in disbelieve.

"Seems like. Man," he laughs, "if I wasn't here now, and anyone come tell me shit like that, I'd send 'em to have their head checked."

"Got that right, Cut. Looks like science can go stick all their theories somewhere else, don't it?"

"Sure does. But wait a minute, Chase, I just thought of somethin' else...Jimmy, why'nt you ask 'im, if he knows anything about a bear that kinda disappeared on us," he requests with a sly grin.

Some more signs, a grunt from 'Harry', and I get sort of an unfriendly look. _Oh, boy! Guess he ain't too fond of me for shootin' that thing._

"Chase..." Jimmy has an uncomfortable expression on his face.

"I know, I know! Tell 'im, I'm sorry. It's just something us people do."

"He knows," Chief answers dryly, then signs to Cut again.

"Says they don't like it, but they understand. They just do somethin' every now and then, to try and get us humans off that huntin' thing."

"Like make bucks or bears disappear after we shoot 'em, right?" I snicker.

"Right!"

"Great!" I roll my eyes, then smirk at 'Harry' and he smirks back. Then another thought crosses my mind. _What about those surveillance photos from last year? The large bipedal creature, chasing something that would resemble elk or bear? They hadn't captured any of those guys yet at that time, so what was that all about?_

I relay the question to Cut, and he looks real thoughtful, explaining it to Jimmy.

Chief merely shrugs nonchalantly and signs an answer right away.

"Well, that sure beats all," Cut shakes his head. "Get this, Chase..."

"I might, if you ever fill me in."

"Oh, shut up! Anyways, Jimmy says, they wasn't huntin' at all. They's chasing them elk alright, but just to get 'em away from the chemicals."

"What? He already talked to Harry about that?" I squint up at the big guy again.

"Not directly, but he says Harry told 'im about chasing animals to scare 'em out of the area, when they got talkin' about that huntin' thing."

"Great!" Now I shake my head. "This just gets better all the while."

#####

We walk on, and the conversation is stalled for the moment. _Would be too difficult, watching hand-signs and where you're going at the same time._ We cross the creek at a narrow spot, reaching an area where the thicket of trees and brush suddenly opens up into a small clearing that is almost completely filled out by a clear pond. _Beautiful! Hell of a place to go fishin'. Bet there is some big ones in there._

I have no time to admire it further though, because 'Harry' cuts to the right, leading us straight back toward the growth. _There ain't no way through here_... I am still thinking, when it seems he just disappears into one of the trees. _What the...?_ Then I see it! _Wow!_

It really is a tree—well, actually two of them. Huge oaks, separated at the bottom of their trunks, but grown into one about eight feet off the ground. There is an opening behind those trunks, impossible to see until you are actually in it. It leads through another tunnel-like entrance which opens up into a cave, even larger than the one we were in before. Dim light, but enough to make out the surroundings. These rocks look like frozen black waterfalls. _Lava stone!_

That is as far as I get with my observation. Then I look forward, my mouth drops open, and Cut doesn't have a real bright expression on his face either

There are at least twenty of them. All different sizes, from maybe three foot to as big as eight foot tall. Fuzzy long hair, in some cases a little curly, ranging from the lightest shade of gray, to beige, to brown and to the deepest black. _Holy....!_ We stare and get stared at in return, but there is not one single, furry face that doesn't have a curious-friendly look on it.

"Jesus Christ the Almighty!" Cut mumbles hardly audible, and I am thinking the same thing.

_So many? And they just stand there, like this wasn't the wildest thing that ever happened. Wonder what they're thinking ? Stupid, Chase! They're probably thinking, "what the hell did Harry bring them dumbass humans in here for"._

I am wrong, and I realize it immediately when Jimmy signs to the group and the faces get even friendlier.

'Harry' signs something back, and Chief relays it to Cut.

"He wants to know…if we would like to be introduced?" Cut's voice has a little crack in it.

"Well..." I know, I probably don't look all too bright right now.

"It's okay, Chase," Jimmy assures me with a wide grin and some more signs.

"He says, there ain't no way he'n translate any names, but that don't matter," Cut informs me. "Guess our names wouldn't sound right in Bigfoot neither," he grins.

"Guess not, Cut. Well, let's just do it. What you think?"

"Think it couldn't hurt nothing. They look friendly enough."

What happens next is so unbelievable, I feel like slapping myself just to make sure it is real. Jimmy signs something else, and they start coming toward us. This real big one stops right in front of me. I recognize him immediately, for the scar on his arm. _Oh, no! That's the one I shot!_ Getting so tense, it is almost painful, I stare up at him. _Now what do I say?_ I don't have to say anything.

He reaches out and takes my hand, gripping it so tight, I can feel my knuckles crack. Then he shakes it, nearly throwing out my shoulder again. _I shot the guy, and he is actually shaking my hand instead of ripping my head off?_ He tilts his head, giving me a little grunt, and I finally wake up. Well, not really since he is still there. But now I start grinning and return the handshake with the best grip I can muster. _Man, and I thought I had big hands. This guy's paw is about three times the size of mine. Sure am glad he ain't mad at me_. Another hearty shake, and he steps aside.

Then the others take over. The little ones is what really gets me. _Like a bunch of fuzzy, Old English Sheepdogs, just bigger and up on two legs._ But the faces are so human under all that hair, it is even possible to distinguish different characteristics—at least if you look real close.

My hand is about sore, by the time we get through all the 'introductions'. A glance at Cut, he wears an expression that is just short of completely 'bumfuzzled'—as we call it back home. _Don't think I look much better._

One of the little ones tugs on Jimmy's shirt-sleeve, and signs to him when he looks down. Chief casts a thoughtful gaze over at me, but then smiles and signs back. Whatever the conversation is about, I don't know, but it earns me a real happy, toothy grin from the little guy, and he comes over, hugging my waist for a second.

"Damn, Jimmy, what was that all about?"

A roguish grin, some signs to Cut, and I get filled in.

"Jimmy says, she was worried you'd hurt her daddy again," Cut smirks. "He told her you were actually a good guy, just a little nervous."

_She?..._ "Geez, Cut!" I shake my head in disbelieve.

"It's okay, Chase," Chief assures me again. "They understand."

"Yeah, but I feel like a complete asshole now, Jimmy."

For a moment he looks like he is going to say something else, but then I only get another grin.

_Thanks! Guess I had that coming._

"Hey, Chase?"

"What, Cut?"

"Is this really happenin'?"

"Not sure, man. But my hand hurts. I _think_ I'm awake."

"Yeah," he snickers. "Sure got a hell of a grip, even them kids, don't they?"

I have no time to answer because Chief gets his attention and signs.

Cut gives me a weird look. "Chase, Harry wants to know if we have any questions?"

"Any questions? Man, I got about ten million of 'em. Just wouldn't know where to start."

"No, shit!"

"Jimmy, can you ask him _how_ they know that the chemicals up here are dangerous?" I inquire nevertheless.

He looks real thoughtful for a moment, but then nods and turns to 'Harry'.

"That's a good start," Cut mumbles.

"Not really. Just the only one I'n think of right now."

"Chase," Chief squints uneasy, "he says, they kill."

"Kill? You mean, like animals that get in contact with the containers, die?"

"No!...They die!"

" _They?_ "

"Yes."

"Damn, Jimmy," I mutter frustrated, "how many of 'em have died from this? Do you know?" I ask, thinking, _even one is already one too many_.

"Shit," Cut whispers when Chief turns back to 'Harry', "we really gotta make sure somethin' gets done about this, Chase."

"You bet!"

A tap from Jimmy regains my attention. "What's that?" I frown since he is holding up one hand, thumb and ring-finger touching at the tips, the others stretched out.

A slightly irritated flinch, and he quickly switches to both hands, holding up seven fingers.

"Damn! Tell him, I'm sorry, and I promise we'll get it taken care of."

"Chase, we gotta go," Cut sounds urgent all of the sudden. "We gotta find Billy before he runs into that bunch down at the camp."

"Thought you's planning on staying the night?"

"I was, but..."

"Know what you mean." I am thinking along the same line. _These guys are living here, not hurtin' nothing or nobody, and they'll keep dying, one right after the other, if this mess doesn't get straightened out._ "Jimmy, tell him we appreciate the hospitality, but we _have to_ go."

He gives me a questioning squint and I explain. "If we can't get to Billy in time, then we don't stand a chance. Those jerks out there mean business."

Now I get a nod, and 'Harry' gets the message.

_Looks like they even got some kind of social structure going, and Harry is the one in charge. Fantastic!_

Chief taps Cut's arm because he is grinning over at the little one that had hugged me.

"Yeah?" Cut drawls and turns, then relays what Jimmy signs. "He says, we can leave any time we want to. Just let Harry know, and he'll have one of 'em show us the way."

"Great! Jimmy, tell him thanks again, and I just gotta go talk to the other guys real quick. Then we'll go, okay?"

A nod from Chief, and an affirmative grunt from 'Harry' after my words are put into signs.

#####

It is almost completely dark by the time we get back. I enter the cave with Cut, while Jimmy stays outside, involved in a conversation with 'Harry'. The men in the cave are eating dinner. _Sure smells good. Man, am I hungry!_ I get a rather nasty smirk from Cut when my stomach starts growling. But we are pressed for time, so I—at least try to— ignore the uncomfortable feeling. At the curious looks, I get straight to the point.

"Gentlemen," I squat down beside Sergeant Drake, "sorry to interrupt. Let me make this quick." _Hope Perry doesn't give me a bunch of shit again._ "I figure you've all been informed of the situation by now?"

Mostly acknowledging nods, and I continue, overlooking the angry squint from Perry. "Good! Now, here's what's gonna happen. My partners and I will be leaving in a few minutes..."

"Wait a second," Perry breaks in, "I thought you said, you would stay the night?"

"If you let me finish, I'll explain that," I answer sternly and he frowns, but then keeps quiet. "Alright," I go on, "it _was_ our intention to stay, but after finding out a little more about the situation up here, we feel it's necessary..."

"What situation?" one of the other agents interrupts.

"Why don't you all just shut up for a minute," Cut snaps at the guy. "Stuff some food in your mouth and listen."

"Thanks for the input, Reece," I smirk, calling him by his real first name—he hates it when I do that. "Like I was trying to say, we think it's necessary that we leave here earlier than planned. The people who are on the way up here need to be warned. I'm sure you know about the chemical agents by now?"

More nods, but no interruptions this time.

"We found out that these chemicals are responsible for several deaths. I don't have time to get into all the details right now. Let me just say this, we need to make sure this matter gets taken care of quickly. We have an understanding going with our furry friends up here that should we, for some reason, not be able to return, you will all still be set free in a few days." The statement earns me a slight squint from Cut, but no one seems to notice.

"How can we know you're telling the truth?" one of the soldiers inquires though.

"You can't," I answer honestly. "Look, Corporal, I understand how you feel. But all I can say is, you just have to trust me on this one, okay?"

There are some extremely concerned expressions now, and I push the issue.

"Gentlemen, I know this is tough. But if we can't get things up here straightened out, none of us will ever go home again." I say it dead serious, and see in their faces that most of them start to at least get thoughtful.

"Sergeant?" Another one of the soldiers stands up—Lieutenant Walker, I recognize the name and rank when he steps closer.

"Sir?" I straighten as well.

"Look, Sergeant Drake and Mister Hughes here have informed us exactly about what is going on out there." He sounds worried. "Let me just say this, I understand the situation you are in and, as far as my men and I are concerned...we wish you good luck. Just watch yourself and come back to get us out of here," he smiles ruefully.

"Thank you, Sir!" I salute sharply, suppressing a sigh of relief.

Hughes and the other two civilians seem to agree with the Lieutenant.

_Now what about Perry and his bunch?_ I glance over at the agents. Most of them look uneasy, but more or less willing to cooperate. Perry wears an expression that is completely unreadable.

"Agent Perry," I address him directly, "what about your men? Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, Sergeant!" he gives back between gritted teeth.

"Okay! Then if there are no further questions..." I hesitate, but there is no response. "Good! Then I'll see you Gentlemen in a few days from now. Just sit tight and keep your fingers crossed. Oh, and Sergeant," I grin at Drake, "thanks for the help."

"You're welcome. Good luck!" he grins back and salutes.

"Frank?" I give Hughes a questioning look.

"We'll be alright. Just don't forget about us."

"I won't!" I pledge somberly, saluting the whole group. "Later, Gentlemen. Let's go, Cut," I say, turning, but think, _thank God that's over with!_

Cut trudges after me, and I know only too well what is on his mind. I keep quiet nevertheless, waiting for him to start in on me about the matter. It doesn't take very long. We are barely ten steps into the tunnel when I hear him draw a deep breath.

"Chase?"

"What, Cut?" I ask unnecessarily, knowing what is to come.

"Well, I...hell, how'm I gonna say this?"

"Say what, Cut?"

"Well..." he goes again.

"Oh, just come out with it, will ya?"

"Fine!" he snaps, then starts rattling on. "What in the hell were you doing, promising them guys they'd get to go home, even if we didn't come back?"

_There it is!_

"How can you say somethin' like that? We ain't never even mentioned it to Harry, 'bout lettin' any of 'em go. What if he don't? What if he..."

"Cut," I finally interrupt, stopping and turning around, "listen to me a minute."

"I'm listening!" He crosses his arms over his chest with a smartass sneer.

"Look," I rub my forehead, "you said yourself, we gonna have to hurry, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Now! I had to have somethin' to convince these guys to stay, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah? Don't you see? What else was I gonna tell 'em? That there ain't no way they'll ever go home, in case we don't make it?"

"Hmmm..."

"Don't _hmmm_ me, man. Damn, Cut, I just had to say _something_."

"But what if we really can't come get 'em, for one reason or another? Then what?"

"Well..." Now I am doing it.

"Well, what, Chase? Then they still never get to go home, right?"

"Well," I repeat and sigh, "I was kinda hoping, Jimmy could help us out on that one. Maybe he'n talk to Harry, and convince 'im to let those guys go after a few days."

"Oh, so now you are passin' the buck?" he almost yells.

"God damn it, keep your voice down," I interrupt quickly, not wanting to alarm the men inside the cave.

"Sorry!"

"It's okay! Look, Cut, I'm not trying to pass the buck, as you put it, at all, believe me. I've thought of this from the beginning, and I's gonna ask Jimmy anyways to talk to Harry about it. It just gotta happen a little sooner now."

"And how you plan on havin' him explain it?"

" _That_ I don't know," I answer honestly. "I's just more or less hoping he could think of somethin' real convincing himself."

"Great! Bet he'll appreciate the hell outa that one, Chase," Cut grumbles and starts walking again.

_Damn!_ I follow behind him, and the tunnel is suddenly much too short. _I need time to think. We don't have no time! Shit, Chase, think faster!_ Then we are outside, get a questioning look from Chief, and Cut squints at me. _Great!_

"Well, Chase, go ahead, ask 'im." Cut motions with his head toward Jimmy.

"Ask me what?" Chief inquires, and I hesitate.

"Go ahead. You're on your own on that one, man," Cut grumbles

_Oh, thanks a lot!_ "Look, Jimmy," I rub my forehead again and get a curious squint. _Damn, how am I gonna say this? Ah, to hell with it_... "Jimmy, I need to ask you a favor. I need for you to tell Harry that he's gotta let these guys in there go in a few days, even if we don't make it back. Think you could do that?" _There! Now it's out and I feel better._

A moment of hesitation on Chief's part, and I am not sure if he got all of what I said, since it was rattled off in one single breath and the light outside has to be all but enough to read someone's lips. But then he suddenly gets a smirk on his face.

"I already did," he states matter-of-factly.

"Huh?"

Rolling his eyes at my 'smart' reply, he signs, and Cut snickers.

"He says, he already talked to Harry about that while we's still in there."

"You did?"

"Yeah!" Cut continues. "Says, he caught part of the conversation before when you mentioned it to Drake, and thought he'd help out a little."

"Oh, man..." I exhale a long breath. "You just don't know how much I appreciate that. So what did Harry say?"

"It's okay!" Jimmy answers with sly grin.

"It's okay, as in he'll let them go?"

"Yes."

"Great! Man, I owe you one," I finally grin, too.

"So where's Harry anyways?" Cut inquires, looking around, and we get the "don't know" sign for an answer. "Well, hell," he mutters, "we sure ain't gonna find a way outa here by ourselves..."

"He'll be back," Chief assures us.

"Sure hope so!" Cut no sooner says it, when 'Harry' is suddenly beside us.

_Geez! Scared the hell out of me!_

He signs to Chief, the usual relay to Cut, and I find out what is going on last.

"Harry says, if we're ready to go, he'll take us himself."

"Outstanding! Let's get the gear and unass the AO."

#####

It seems even more impossible to find a way through the growth in the dark, but 'Harry' is leading us without hesitation. To my relief, the ever-present clouds broke up earlier in the day and I can make out a direction by the stars. _Straight west._ We walk on, I estimate about one and a half miles, then Harry slows down, ducking low. _I remember this._ It gets completely dark, and we have to feel our way along the rock-wall of the tunnel. _I wonder just how far it actually is to the camp. Figure a good three or four miles anyway, considerin' how fast the other one was going and how long it took when he brought me here. Maybe Jimmy can ask Harry when we get out of this black hole..._

Then we are through and I look back. _What the...? Where the...?_ Nothing there! Not the slightest hint of any kind of exit we could possibly have come out of. Nothing! Just solid mountain, overgrown by bushes and trees. _How are we ever gonna find this place again?_

"Chase?" Cut's voice sounds tight, and I know he is thinking the same thing.

"Somethin' else, ain't it, Cut? No wonder no one's ever found this place."

"Yeah...but..."

"I know! Just hope we'n remember where it's at."

"Right! Jimmy," he taps Chief's shoulder, then says along with signs, "ask him, if there's anything to go by, finding this place? You know, when we come back for the others."

_Not if, but when? You sure got more confidence in us than I do, Cut._

Chief comes back with 'Harry's answer quickly.

"He says, Harry told 'im not to worry 'bout finding 'im. They'll find _us_ ," Cut translates.

"Great! Just tell 'im to please leave out the knockin' in the head part next time, okay?"

A grin from Jimmy, and a chuckling sound from 'Harry' when my request is put into signs.

"Well, I guess that's it. See you later, Harry," I smile and grab the big guy's hand.

He shakes it vigorously, then does the same for Cut and Chief, and is gone so suddenly we don't even have time to blink.


	23. Day 18 (part 6)

**Day 18-6**

_Never did get to ask 'im how far it is to the camp. Oh, well, guess we'll find out_ , I think, gazing up at the stars to orientate myself. Jimmy's tap on my shoulder gets my attention.

"This way!" He points west.

"You know the way?" I inquire surprised, and Cut signs the question since it is too dark for him to make out what I am saying.

"Yes, he told me," Chief confirms matter-of-factly.

"Great! Well, after you then," I grin with an inviting motion of my hand.

Chief is leading us, as unerringly as if he had come this way a hundred times. Walking through unfamiliar territory in the middle of the night is everything _except_ fun. Cut and I have had the 'pleasure' on several occasions, but that doesn't make it any more enjoyable.

"Ouch, shit!" he grumbles behind me, tripping over the same root I just barely avoided. "Damn, Jimmy, slow down."

"Don't think he heard you, Cut," I snicker.

"Oh, kiss my ass, Chase! Get a hold of 'im, will ya? He's runnin' like a raped ape, and I can't see a hand before my eyes...Shit!" He trips again, and I speed my pace to catch up with Chief.

"Jimmy!" I reach for his arm, holding him up.

He stops and turns.

"Slow down!" Cut says with an aggravated gesture.

There is no reply, but as far as I can make out, Jimmy rolls his eyes, then walks on at a more moderate pace. We follow close behind him, Cut grumbling underneath his breath.

#####

The area seems to get a little familiar now, and I start to recognize different landmarks. Odd shaped trees, rocks, as we pass them. _Gotta be careful. About another three-quarter mile or so, and we'll get close to my security-zone. Wonder if that bunch is still down at the camp. Bet they had a hell of a time, gettin' through all them traps and trip wires I set up. Better slow down a little more_.

"Jimmy!" I grab Chief's arm again. "Cut, tell 'im I know where we're at now. Better let me go ahead. I know where all the wires are."

Cut puts the message into signs.

"After you!" Jimmy grins, with the same motion I had made earlier.

I get about five steps in, then get tackled, and there is a wet tongue slapping my face. "Geez...damn, Buck you scared the hell outa me!...Get off!...Cut!...Damn it, dog, get off me..."

There is no help from anywhere, because Cut is too busy laughing his ass off, and Chief seems to get too much of a kick out of the situation to interfere.

"Damn, Buck!" I finally manage to free myself and struggle to my feet.

Buck keeps jumping up and down though, yipping, and carrying on like it is the last thing he will ever do.

"Geez, dog, calm down before you have a coronary." I snatch a hold of his collar.

He doesn't like that at all, and I receive a well deserved growl for it.

"Good boy!" I pat his head and he calms down at last, sitting on his haunches and panting up at me. "You gotta stop acting like a pup, Buck. Where'd you come from anyways? Didn't even hear you sneak up on us. Them guys still down there?" I am kneeling down, talking and scratching behind his ears.

"Hey, Chase," Cut snickers, "when you're done with the reunion, think we'n go on?"

"I'm done, I'm done," I laugh, getting up again, but still holding on to the dog's collar.

"Man, he just 'bout scared me to death."

"You? Shit! Should've tried my position. He was on top of me so fast, I didn't even know what hit me. Just glad it wasn't one of our buddies down there. Gotta be more careful."

"Yeah!" he drawls, signing to Jimmy, and receiving a serious nod in return.

"Okay! Come on and watch where you step. I'll let you know when we get close to the wires." I start to walk on, pulling Buck along by his collar.

Another two-hundred yards perhaps, and Buck hesitates, fighting against my hold. I stop immediately, motioning behind me for Cut and Chief. The MPK is loaded and ready in my hand. A low growl from Buck, I can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Dropping to one knee, I strain my eyes against the darkness among the trees. Buck growls louder, angrier, and I tighten my grip on his collar.

"Cut!" I hiss low, and he is immediately at my side.

"Damn, Chase, I can't see a fuckin' thing," he says, barely audible.

"That makes two of us."

Cut startles, but turns when Chief taps his shoulder from behind. A few hasty signs.

"Jimmy says, he can't help us at night," Cut whispers, and I get the meaning.

_Figure it's possible to make up for not hearing by watching real close. But when it's dark? Gotta be tough._

Then Buck suddenly quiets down.

 _Great! Last time that happened_... "Cut!"

"Yeah!"

"Think maybe we better hold up here till it gets light. What you think?"

"Think you got a point. Wait a minute..." He signs to Jimmy, getting a quick nod.

"I just hope we'n catch Billy in time," I continue nevertheless.

"Don't know, man. Maybe we'n at least get over to the path?"

"Might be a good idea, Cut. Buck's calmed down, so I figure it's clear. Tell Jimmy, and stay right behind me. Both of you. Got it?"

"Got it!"

I turn our direction a little more northern, toward the path between the camp and the old logging-road. There is no further reaction from the dog, and we continue slowly down the slope of the mountain-side. Cutting across game-trails rather than following them makes any advance a virtual pain in the neck. But we don't have much choice if we want to avoid getting too close to the camp for right now. I breathe a sigh of relief when we reach the narrow path, about eight-hundred yards below the cabin. _Now all we can do is wait._

Apparently Cut reads my mind, considering he makes himself comfortable on the trunk of the huge maple that fell here years ago, probably during a raging winter storm.

"Well," I scoot up beside him, " I guess we got some time to come up with a plan. Any suggestions?"

"Yeah," he grumbles, lighting a cigarette, "find somethin' to eat."

"Man," I grin, shaking my head, "you ever think about somethin' besides food?"

"You ask me that one more time, Chase, and I'm gonna..." he stops in mid-sentence.

"You gonna what?" I snicker.

"Hell, I think of somethin'," he gives back irritated

A low whistle from Jimmy gets our attention. He is grinning and holding out something toward us that sure smells good.

"Man, where'd you get that?" Cut grabs, whatever it is, out of Chief's hand and sinks his teeth into it without hesitation.

"Chase?" Jimmy smirks, handing me a piece.

"What is it?" I inquire, taking the large hunk of something.

"Bear jerky," Cut mutters, chewing contentedly.

"Greetings from Harry," Chief adds with a roguish grin.

I take a bite—it is absolutely delicious.

Buck gets his share from Jimmy.

"Man, and you's holding out on us with that," Cut complains, signing as he does.

"Had to!" Chief is still grinning. "You can't walk and chew at the same time."

Cut gives him the 'finger', but he misses it because he is looking away from us, up into the direction of the camp.

At the same time I get this uncomfortable feeling, just like once before, a cold chill at the back of my neck. _Are they watching us?_

Jimmy turns back, a strange expression on his face. "He is here!"

"I know!" I say it with a nod.

"Who is here? What the hell are you two talking about?" Cut inquires irritated.

"Harry!" I state scarcely, and Chief adds some signs.

"You mean he's here, watching us? What the hell for?" The question earns Cut the usual "don't know" gesture. "Great," he snickers, "now we got us a fuzzy body-guard."

"Man, I don't like that at all," I muse. "If we get into it with that bunch down at the camp...sure hope he stays clear, so he doesn't get hurt."

"Yeah," Cut scratches his head, looking thoughtful.

"Don't worry, he knows," Jimmy throws in, kind of making it feel like he read our minds.

"What? You two talk about that, too?"

A shrug and a nod is all the answer Cut gets for his inquiry.

"Man, you an' me gonna have to have a little discussion about that later. Anything else you didn't fill us in on?" Cut signs as he speaks, but still gets only another shrug in return.

Another long night. _Patience just ain't one of my strong sides._ We take turns at watching and dozing a little, leaned up against the trunk of that fallen maple. It is not all too comfortable, but I have seen worse. Buck has no problem with it, he is curled up comfortably at my feet. He and Cut got a snoring-match going. Jimmy is standing up, leaning against another tree, and staring into the night. I know it is possible to sleep in this position—standing up, your knees locked—I have done it many times. Chief doesn't look like he is asleep though. _Wonder what he's thinking about._

Finally—the first hint of light. 5:39 a.m., according to my wrist-watch.


	24. Day 19

**Day 19**

Jimmy pushes off the tree he is leaning on and comes over. I stretch, trying to work the stiffness out of my shoulders and back. Buck is up as soon as I move, and starts looking for the perfect tree to do his 'morning-constitutional'. Cut is still snoring, so I give him a little gentle jab with an elbow. A grunt, something mumbled, then more snoring. _That boy can sleep anytime, anywhere. But I know how to get him up._

I motion to Chief, telling him to sneak around the tree trunk behind Cut. I get a questioning squint, but he does it, and I do the same. Then I flip the safety-switch on the MPK. Just a real low, metallic click, and Cut is on his feet, the .45 ready in his hand, so fast it even startles me.

But now _I_ get it! Cut is cussing, calling me everything but a 'white man', and the look I get from Jimmy isn't too favorable either. _Guess he didn't know that ol' Cut is a little jumpy on that part, or...wait a minute! He doesn't hear that click, so...Man, that's something that could turn out quite dangerous in our situation...At least for him anyways._

"Cut, shut up a minute. I just thought of something."

"Oh, yeah? Like how the hell you gonna scare the shit out of me next?"

"Sorry! Got you up though, didn't it?...Anyway, Jimmy," I touch his arm because he is looking over at Buck. "Jimmy, pay attention a minute. This is important. Do you know _why_ he jumped?" I ask, indicating Cut.

Chief shifts an uneasy look between Cut and me, then shakes his head.

"Oh, shit, Chase!" Cut grasps it immediately. "Now there's somethin' we ain't thought about. I know he'n somehow _feel_ a shot being fired, but this, he couldn't know."

"Right!...Jimmy, you saw me flip the safety on the gun, didn't you?"

An affirmative nod, but with kind of a curious squint.

"Look, when I do this," I move the switch back and forth a couple of times, "it makes a sound. Don't have me try and explain what kind, because I couldn't. But it _does_ make a sound. Not very loud, but enough to alarm someone if they're close to you."

"Like the hammer on the .45," Cut breaks in, the Llama still in his hand. "Remember, I told you 'bout that?"

"Yes, and the breech?" Chief answers.

"Right! Guess I kinda forgot to mention the safety. Never thought about it."

"Good thing we come across it then," I muse. "That might've caused some trouble."

"Still could, Chase," Cut mumbles, and Jimmy flashes him an irritated glare.

"Possibly. But now that he knows about it...look, Jimmy," I regain his attention, "if you flip the switch real slow, kinda holding on to it, there is almost no sound at all. So if you sneak up behind somebody...just remember that, okay?"

"No problem!" He finally grins wryly.

"Alright, Chase, so what's your plan now?" Cut changes the subject.

"Hell, we never come up with one, since you's more worried about your stomach than anything else yesterday."

"Yeah! Jimmy, you got any of that jerky left?"

A smirk and a few signs from Chief and a "Well, hell!" from Cut.

"Okay, guys," I scan the area, "guess we better get this show on the roll."

"So how we gonna work it, Chase? Wait here for Billy'n them, or have us a little fun with that bunch up at the camp?"

"Ain't quite sure just how funny that would be, Cut," I answer somber. "Didn't seem like they's much for playing around."

"So we wait?"

"Well..."

"Well, what?"

"I'd like to check out what's going on, see what we're up against. Just don't wanna let 'em know we're here yet."

"Shouldn't be a problem. We know where all your little obstacles are..."

"Oh, shit!" I interrupt, a thought suddenly popping into my mind. "I fucked up, Cut."

"How so?"

"When I cleared out up there..."

"Don't tell me you left that damn map, Chase?" he cuts me off.

"Yeah, man. And if they made it all the way in, which I figure they did..."

"So much for that!"

"Yeah! Damn, Cut, I'm sorry!"

"Nothin' you'n do about it now. Just wonder if they got the idea to set up a few of their own? Or relocate yours, or somethin'."

"Could be. Guess we gonna find out."

"Guess so! Maybe we oughta split up, and go check around a little."

"Well..." I scratch my head.

"Now don't start _that_ again," Cut smirks. "Look, we better find out quick, before Billy gets here. Wouldn't wanna end up lookin' stupid."

"Got a point," I muse. "Alright! Jimmy, you know what to look for?"

An affirmative nod.

"Good! Which side you want, Cut?"

"Left!"

"Jimmy?"

Just a nonchalant shrug this time.

"Well, take the right then, I'll take the middle. Stay low and keep a careful look-out for them jerks down there. Don't get any closer than a hundred yards to the camp. We meet back here in, let's say no later than two and a half hours, okay?"

"Sounds fine with me," Cut agrees. "Just keep your finger on the trigger, and watch your ass. Jimmy, all clear?"

Chief gives us a nod and a 'thumbs-up'.

We synchronize our watches, 6:07 a.m.

Buck tries to follow as I take off through the brush.

"No, boy!" I kneel down and rub his head. "You gonna have to stay for now. We'll be back in a little while, just gotta check out a few things. Lay down."

He whines, but follows the command.

 _Shit! I can't risk, having him come running after me. He's got a mind of his own, and if he gets a notion to go..._ Then an idea crosses my mind.

"Buck, listen real careful."

He tilts his head and looks up at me with big, wide eyes.

"I want you to go find Billy. Remember? Billy? Big guy...always smells like he fell into a bottle of aftershave? Think you'n find him for me, Buck?"

I know it sounds stupid, talking to a dog in this manner. But Buck isn't just _any_ dog. He is _my_ dog. I trained him, starting when he was only a couple of weeks old. And I know he remembers Lieutenant Hughes, for the simple fact that LT's Canoe-brand aftershave is something he is absolutely crazy about. Apparently I am right, considering when I say the name 'Billy', Buck starts to wag his tail in excitement.

"Good! Go find him, Buck. He oughta be just about on his way up here by now. Go down there. Go, get 'im."

Another wag and an affirmative "whoof", then he is off, down the path in a flash.

 _Good! Just hope LT don't mind the wet welcome he's in for if Buck really finds him_.

#####

The wires are gone. _Damn!_ Every single one of them, at least in the two-hundred yard area I check out myself. I am perhaps ninety yards below the camp, more crawling then walking, scanning every square inch for possible traps. I can tell where the ones I had set up used to be located. _Used to be!_

It is quiet over by the cabin. Totally quiet. _Too quiet!_ I raise my head just a little above the bushes, straining my eyes, watching for any kind of possible movement in or around the cabin. Nothing. _Weird! Didn't think they'd leave so soon. What time is it? Shit! 7:59 am! I gotta head back, or Cut's gonna get worried. No tellin' what he'll do, if I don't show up on time._

The way back is much faster, and though I stay low and move careful, at least I don't have to worry about running into any kind of trip-wires or traps. The area as far as I inspected is clear. I make the seven-hundred yards in less than thirty minutes, being the first to arrive back at our starting point.

Chief comes in, just about two minutes after me.

"Find anything?" I inquire when he sits down on the tree trunk beside me.

"Nothing," he answers scarcely, still looking at me though like he is expecting another question.

I make it rather a statement. "There is no one up at the camp."

"I know!" is the affirmative answer.

"Well, I guess we wait for Cut and see what he found. What do you think?"

I get merely a quiet nod in reply and don't say anything else either. Waiting—again!

Ten minutes—fifteen minutes—Nothing! _Where the hell is he?_

"Jimmy!" I have to regain his attention since he is playing with the hammer on his Llama, cocking and un-cocking it slowly. "I'm starting to get a little worried. Wonder where Cut is. Maybe I should go..."

"I'm right here, Chase."

It is not so much Cut's voice suddenly behind me, but rather the strained sound of it that spins me around. _Shit!_ He is there all right. All two-hundred-thirty pounds of him, his hands up in the air, a drawn look on his face.

There are also three guys in black jumpsuits, H&K 93A3s in their hands, one of the gun-barrels pushing against Cut's back. I exhale a sharp breath, and Chief's face loses color when he turns too.

"All right," one of the guys sneers, "just put those guns down real easy, or your buddy here is going to end up with another hole in his back."

"Sorry, Chase," Cut mumbles frustrated.

"Put your gun down!" another one of the agents yells, bringing his rifle up.

"Chase," Cut starts again anyways, "shoot the hostage, remember?"

"Shut up!" The first agent gives him a sharp jab with the barrel.

I still hesitate. 'Shoot the hostage' is an understanding between us, we had reached a long time ago. It means that should either one of us ever get into a situation like this, with the success of a mission depending on it, the other would take the 'trump-card' of holding a hostage out of the opponent's hands. _Sure easier just talking about it than actually doing it! I can't..._

"Chase," Cut urges.

"Put your guns down!" the agent's voice is rock-hard now. "One...two..."

Chief raises his hand that holds the Llama— _No!_ I reach over and push his arm down, lowering my MPK at the same time.

"Shit!" Cut hisses, sounding madder'n hell and the agents grin derisively.

"Get the guns and check 'em," the one with the barrel against Cut's back snaps.

 _I'll find another way out of this...if they give us some time, that is_. I turn over the MPK, and do not resist getting searched. The Llama behind my belt and my pocket-knife is all that is taken. All I have that resembles a weapon too. A glance at Chief, his expression is completely impassive as he gives up the Llama and the SIG, but tenses considerably when the guy who is checking him confiscates the Bowie knife.

"God damn it, Chase!" Cut starts again, earning himself another jab from the barrel.

"Shut the fuck up! Let's go!" the first agent directs.

#####

 _Damn, I hate this feeling!_ The H&K is pushing hard against my spine and I move forward. _Wonder how they caught him? Weird! Seems they've changed their minds about just shootin' us. Looks like he got into it with 'em...that one guy got a nice shiner on his cheek. Must've been up against all three of 'em though, otherwise he would've come out on top despite that injured shoulder._

We walk in silence, I guess each of us thinking the same thing. _How the fuck could we screw up like that?_ The eight-hundred yards to the cabin seem much too short. I am trying feverishly to come up with a way out of this. _Wonder how many there are? Why the hell didn't I see anyone up there a while ago? Did Micheals go to check out the chemicals? Wonder if Harry's still in the area?_

A million thoughts race through my mind. None of them useful, none of them an answer, none of them a solution to our problem. Then I run out of thoughts and out of time when we reach the cabin.

It is empty. No one there—except us now, along with the three guys in black jumpsuits.

"Sit down!" A short command, accompanied by a jab from a gun-barrel, directs each one of us to a chair. "Put your hands behind you. Tie 'em, Lucas." Another command, and the youngest one of the agents comes up with a handful of plastic zip-ties.

 _Great! I hate them things_. I deliberately avoid any kind of eye-contact with either Cut or Jimmy. I know full well, Cut is madder'n hell at me for not carrying out our agreement. _I just couldn't!. There's got to be another way._

We get tied, hands behind or backs, sitting on the chairs. Two of the agents make themselves comfortable on _our_ bunks, with a couple cans of _our_ beer. The younger one leaves. _Guess, he's going to tell the others that they got us._

"Chase," Cut sounds frustrated.

"Yeah?" I look over. There is no attempt to keep us quiet on the part of the agents.

"Why didn't you?" He doesn't have to elaborate on the subject. I know damn well what he means.

"Because!" I answer scarcely nevertheless.

"Because what? Damn it, Chase, I thought we had a deal?"

"Mean you would've shot _me_ , if I'd got caught?"

"You damn right I would've! Just for being stupid enough to _get_ caught."

"Bullshit, Cut! You wouldn't have done it either."

There is no answer, and I know I am right.

We quit talking since there is nothing to _talk about_ at the moment. Just another wait, sitting, brooding, wondering what will happen next. 

It doesn't take very long. The door opens again, and five people walk in. I recognize the young guy who tied us and— Harless. He ignores us completely, and steps over toward the other agents who are already in the room. Then two more, one with the black jumpsuit, and the other, wearing a fancy gray dress-suit that looks like it costs at least five-hundred bucks.


	25. Day 19 (part 2)

**Day 19-2**

There is absolutely no way to describe the expression on Jimmy's face when Micheals walks in. Best I can put it—not much short of a deadly glare.

Evidently Cut noticed as well, because he mumbles, "What the hell?", under his breath.

Micheals is grinning at me, however, ignoring the others. "Well, well, well! Sergeant Riggin," he sneers. "Thought you were pretty smart, didn't you? Game's over asshole! I'm going to finish it right here. You and your buddies..."

Only now he cuts himself off, because he looks around and sees Chief. His eyes widen, and a contemptuous grin spreads across his face. "Now looky here! If it isn't Geronimo." He steps over. "Didn't expect to find _you_ here. What a nice fucking surprise!" He is drooling with scorn.

A quick glance at Cut tells me, he is just as surprised as I am, that they seem to know each other.

"So what are you up to this time, eh?" Micheals continues. "Still meddling around in other peoples' business I suppose. Man, you sure caused me a lot of headaches. Won't happen again though."

Chief doesn't show the slightest reaction, just stares straight into Micheals' face.

"Hey, Micheals," I call over in the hope to diffuse the situation. Without success.

He snaps back, "Shut the fuck up, Riggin!", never taking an eye off Jimmy. "So, Geronimo," he then continues, "guess I owe you one for turning me in. Well, let's see..." He pulls his pistol—looks like a Smith&Wesson 4046—from the shoulder holster, and sticks it against Chief's temple.

Jimmy never even flinches, only his fists clench behind his back.

"Now," Micheals starts again, "first of all, you won't need that anymore," he sneers and yanks the bear-claws off Jimmy's neck.

"Oh, shit!" Cut hisses between his teeth, and I exhale a sharp breath, watching Chief's jawline tighten noticeably.

_Figure if he could, he'd rip out Micheals' heart right here and now._

But his hands are tied behind his back, and there is nothing he can do.

"Always did have an eye for that thing." Micheals slips the necklace into his pocket. "How much is it worth? Two, two and a half maybe?" he asks, and Chief looks like he is about to say something.

_Oh God, man! Keep your mouth shut. This son-of-a-bitch is likely to blow your head off._

Cut can't stand it anymore. "Damn it, Micheals, leave him alone!"

"Shut the fuck up! I'll deal with you later. First I got a little score to settle," Micheals scowls, getting real close into Jimmy's face. Then he screams, because Chief head-butts him full blast, right between the eyes.

The answer comes immediately, and I cringe when Micheals hauls off and slams the gun-barrel across Jimmy's face, splitting his cheek wide open.

I can hear Chief grind his teeth. He turns his head back around slowly, and spits a mouthful of blood at Micheals. The agent lets out a roar, backs up slightly, and points the S&W at Jimmy's forehead.

"That's enough, George!" Harless suddenly yells, grabbing his arm, and Cut breathes a sigh of relief when Micheals really lowers the barrel. "Jesus Christ, man! Have you lost your mind?" Harless snaps at him. "What is the matter with you?"

"Stay out of it, Dan," Micheals hisses back. "That fucking red-skinned bastard cost me three years of my life."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"What are you talking about, George?" Harless shakes his head, and I exchange a curious look with Cut.

_Apparently we ain't the only ones, not knowing what's goin' on._

"None of your goddamn business. Just stay out of it."

"I can't do that, man," Harless replies calmly. "We came up here to bring them back. _Alive_ , not dead. So cool it will you? Whatever it is, that's between you and him, I'm sure we can work it out."

Micheals starts laughing like a lunatic, and Harless casts him a doubtful frown.

"Jesus Christ, Chase," Cut whispers, "we gotta do somethin'. I don't know what's goin' on, but that idiot is gonna lose it any minute."

"No, shit!...Micheals!" Another try to draw his attention away from Jimmy. "Come over here a minute. I wanna talk to you."

"Got nothing to say to you, Riggin," he sneers back.

"Oh, cool it, George." Harless makes another attempt. "We have to wrap this thing up here, and get off the mountain before dark."

"I'll wrap it up all right!" Micheals barks, and Harless has no chance to stop him when he slams the gun into Jimmy's face a second time.

Chief's head snaps around and he is out cold. _Damn!_ Cut lets out a whole series of cuss words, but Micheals just glares at him with a nutcase grin.

Harless is suddenly pale as a ghost, and the other agents don't seem all too comfortable either.

One of the guys who caught Cut steps beside Micheals. "With all due respect, Sir, but..."

"Shut up, Sawyer! What the fuck is everyone's problem around here? These guys are just a bunch of AWOL..."

"First of all, Micheals," I break in, loud enough to cut him off, "those two are civilians, and second, if you got something to say then you say it to _me_."

"Oh, I can do that, Riggin, you son-of-a-bitch!" He steps over at last. "Guess you're real surprised that I know your Injun-buddy there, eh? Well, let me tell you something... he isn't going to make it, and neither are you."

"George!" Harless yells at him, now drawing his own gun. "I'm going to see to it, that these guys get a fair trial."

"Oh, yeah?" Micheals sneers. "And just how the fuck are you going to do that, Dan?"

"Simple! Give me your gun. You are suspended indefinitely."

Micheals laughs like crazy again and swings the S&W around at Harless. Then his voice turns hard. "Come and get it, Dan. That is, if you got the guts!"

Harless hesitates, and there is so much tension in the cabin, you could cut it with a knife.

I glance over at Jimmy, thinking that there is nothing I can do if Micheals decides to go over the edge completely. _Damn plastic zip-ties!_ I can't loosen them up, and the more I try the deeper they cut into my wrists. _Shit! Only one good thing...the little dummy who tied me gotta be a rookie. Otherwise he would have tied my thumbs together, instead of my wrists. That's usually the first lesson those guys learn. He must've skipped that class. Now, if I'n just somehow get to that Zippo in my back pocket..._

"Sir," the other agent—Micheals had addressed him as Sawyer—breaks in again, "I would advise you to follow the order you have been given." He brings his H&K up against Micheals' back.

"Damn, Chase!" Cut mumbles, but I pay him no attention because Jimmy moves his head, staring at Micheals—with one eye anyway, the other is already swollen shut.

"Well, good morning, Geronimo! How was the nap?" Micheals scorns, ignoring the gun-barrel in his back.

Jimmy doesn't react, and I seriously doubt that he can even see straight.

"George, I'm going to tell you one more time," Harless says cold, apparently noticing the twitch in Micheals' trigger-finger.

"Oh, calm down, Dan!" He suddenly relaxes, for some unexplainable reason. "I'm not going to shoot him. At least not just yet," he grins and returns the S&W to the holster.

There are several simultaneous sighs of relief, Cut's and mine the most heartfelt ones.

"Come on, George," Harless also lowers his gun, "go outside for a while and cool off. Here, have a beer." He hands him one of our last cans and urges him out the door.

"Lord God the Almighty! What was all that about, Sir?" Sawyer comes back at him when Micheals is gone.

"Be honest, I have not the slightest idea," Harless shrugs. "Riggin, what is going on?"

"How the fuck should I know?" I snap at him. "Damn it, Harless, you gotta cut us loose before he comes back."

"I can't do that, Sergeant. You disobeyed strict orders, and I have..."

"So take it up with me, man. Those two got nothing to do with it."

"They are with you," he answers, bending to a knee beside Chief. "Are you all right?"

"He can't hear you, Harless," I inform him, because Jimmy has his eyes closed.

"What do you mean?" Harless frowns confused.

"Thought that was pretty clear," Cut barks furiously. "He can't hear you means he's _deaf_ , got it? He can understand what's being said as long as he reads your lips, but that's it!"

The expression on Harless' face isn't too bright. "Jesus! Does George know this?" he mutters.

"How should I know? I wasn't even aware they knew _each other_ , until he started all this shit," I answer him.

"So, you have no idea what all this was about?"

"None whatsoever! Look, Harless, we just stumbled across this shit up here by accident. There was never..."

"Wait a minute, Riggin," he cuts me off, "what are you talking about? What shit?"

Cut and I exchange a look of sudden understanding as it dawns on us. _He doesn't know! Oh my God, he doesn't know!_

"Looks like he's in for quite a surprise, huh, Chase?" Cut laughs ruefully.

"All right, Riggin, enough of the games. What is going on?" Harless inquires dead serious.

"Well, Sir, seems your friend _George_ has a little side-business going up here that you're not aware of."

"What kind of business, Sergeant?"

"Does the term _chemical warfare_ mean anything to you?"

"Damn it, Riggin, quit beating around the bush."

_He is either an excellent liar, or I am right, assuming he has no idea. Doesn't matter either way, we got nothing to lose._

"Look, Harless," Cut gets impatient too, "there are enough chemical agents up here to put away half the population of the United States."

"Chemical...oh my God!" Harless' mouth drops open, and there are some real uneasy looks from the other agents in the room.

"Yeah, man," Cut continues. "Looks like he's got you all blindfolded..."

"Hold on a second…Sawyer, go see where he went," Harless instructs low, then turns back to us. "So what you are saying is, someone is dumping chemical agents in this area without permission?"

"Somethin' like that," I confirm. "Look, Sir, we found the men we were looking for. All of 'em...They are in a safe place," I continue quickly, before he can ask. "We also found what we wasn't supposed to, and there is a message on the way to inform the proper authorities."

"Good Lord, Riggin! Why didn't you say so before?"

"Well, Sir, to be honest, we thought you were in on it, too..."

"Hell no, I'm not," he breaks in. "But I can't believe George has anything to do with it either."

"Why'nt you just ask 'im? See how he reacts," Cut suggests cold.

"Not a good idea," I caution. "He's pretty much on the edge. No telling what he'll do."

"Shoot you!"

We all turn our heads in surprise at Jimmy's mumbled words.

"Geez, man," Cut exhales sharply, "you mind tellin' us what the hell is going on?"

Chief doesn't answer, just looks up at Harless with an unreadable expression, then back over at us.

"Jimmy, what did you turn him in for?" I narrow down the question.

Still no reply.

Harless steps closer to him and touches his arm.

Chief turns his head up, squinting at him.

"Pay attention!" Harless says along with signs—now I definitely feel stupid. "Does this by any chance have something to do with Reservation land down in Oklahoma?"

No answer from Jimmy, Harless frowns in frustration, and Cut cusses between his teeth.

Then Harless walks around behind the chair, cutting the ties on Chief's wrists. "Darrel," he snaps at one of the other agents, "cut the other two loose."

"No, Sir!"

"What?"

"You heard me," the guy named Darrel replies hard, and brings his gun up in Harless' face. "Sir, sit down. Sawyer, you too. Give up your piece. Terry, tie 'em."

"What the...?" Harless turns white again, and I don't think Cut and I look much better.

Jimmy is still sitting down, showing no reaction, though his hands are free.

_Sure hope he's smart enough not to try it. He ain't got a snowball's chance in hell._

"Damn, Jimmy, don't do it," Cut mumbles low, knowing full well Chief doesn't get what he says because he is staring at the door.

_God, I have to get out of them ties. Just please don't drop that lighter, Chase. Damn, this is gonna hurt like hell._

It is a good thing that Harless has a shouting-match going with Darrel, and everyone is watching them. I am not listening, just working feverishly to position the Zippo lighter between my hands, so the flame can reach the plastic tie. A click when the lid pops open. _Anyone notice? No!_ A scraping sound— _Ouch! Shit!_ I have to strike the flint a second time, the lighter slips, and I just barely recover my hold on it. Then the flame stays on, and burns into my wrists more than anything else.

I can smell singed hair, but no one seems to pay attention. _COME ON!_ I flex my wrists as much as possible without moving the position of the flame. Then suddenly the plastic starts to give, and I am able to pull a hand free. Suffocating the flame with my palm, and leaving the Zippo open to avoid the metallic sound of the lid, I return it to my pocket. A suppressed sigh of relief. _Okay, now what? I gotta be able to reach a gun, and make sure Cut and Jimmy don't get hurt, all at the same time._

Cut glances over, and I show him for a split second that I am free. No reaction. _Man, he's good! Hell of a poker face. Damn, Jimmy, just don't screw this up for me. I ain't ready yet._ My hands are tingling like crazy, as the blood is starting to circulate again. Between that and the burning pain of scorched skin— _I couldn't even hold on to myself right now. Gotta wait till it lets off a little._


	26. Day 19 (part 3)

**Day 19-3**

Everything goes almost right, at least until Micheals comes back in through the door.

Jimmy is off the chair so fast, I don't think _anyone_ realizes what is happening. Definitely not Micheals, because he has no time to react before Chief is on top of him, hands on his throat.

 _Shit!_ I take the chance and go after the agent closest to me. One quick move, and his H&K is in my hands. I knock out two of the others with the stock. Rolling clear, several bullets throw dirt off the floor around me. Back on my feet in a flash, I slam Darrel with the weapon. Then I am beside Jimmy, and the H&K points into Micheals face.

"Call 'em off!"

He can't, because Chief has got him just about to turn blue.

"Let go, Jimmy!...Damn it, I said let go!" I don't know why in the hell I am yelling at him, but pulling back on his shoulder sure doesn't help.

He just tightens his grip around Micheals' throat.

"Stay back, or your boss here is dead meat," I warn, unsure how many of the agents are actually on Micheals' side. "Jimmy!" I lock one hand in a death-grip around his wrist, never taking an eye off the others. "Jimmy!"

Finally he lets up, and I am not sure for a moment whether it was in time or not.

Then Micheals starts coughing and gasping for air.

"You goddamn..." The rest is cut off because he doesn't have enough breath yet.

"Get up! Tell your boys to put their guns down, or I'll blow your fuckin' head off," I order from between gritted teeth, dead serious, the gun in his face and ready to carry out the threat.

Chief moves aside, but barely enough to give Micheals room to get to his feet

"Just do it!" he hisses toward the other agents. "You're going to regret this, Riggin."

"I don't think so….Jimmy!" Getting his attention isn't easy because he refuses to look away from Micheals for even a second. _Geez, I'd sure like to know what's going on between them two._ "Damn it, Jimmy, look at me!" I pull him around, rougher than intended, earning myself a withering glare. "Help me out here, will ya? I need you to get Cut and Harless loose, understood?"

Another hard look toward Micheals, then he finally gives me a nod.

"Not quite all there, is he?" Micheals sneers, and I am definitely glad Jimmy can't hear it. I doubt that anyone could pull him off the guy's throat for a second time.

"Are you really nuts, or just plain stupid?" I ask madder'n hell.

"Guess he don't know him too well after all, huh, Chase?" Cut is free and steps beside me, handing me one of our .45s.

"Apparently not," I agree, sticking the Llama back behind my belt. "Cut, take care of that bunch over there."

"My pleasure. All of 'em?"

"Not sure. I think Sawyer ain't in on it, but tie all of the others up, just in case. Oh, and Cut, the thumbs not the wrists. Right?"

"Right!" He grins roguishly, then goes to work like he actually enjoys it—I figure he does.

"Sergeant," Harless now comes over. "I really didn't know...Jesus Christ, George," he turns to Micheals, "what in the world are you into this time?"

"None of your fucking business, you bible-thumping son-of-a-bitch," Micheals screams back at him. "Thought I'm just your average everyday lapdog, didn't you? Well, let me tell you something, Agent big-shot Harless, you can stick your loyalty and patriotism so far up your ass, that it..."

"Shut the hell up!" I yell at him even louder. "One more word, and I'll forget that I'm a soldier of the United States Army. It's bastards like you that get us killed, leaving our asses hanging out to dry, while we're sticking them in the wind for our country."

"Beautiful speech, Sergeant," Micheals scorns despite my warning. "And it's jerks like you and that fucking red-skinned bastard over there, that..."

He doesn't get any further, because I have had all I could take. _So it'll cost me my rank, but it's worth it._ My fist lands dead square against his jaw, his head snaps up, his eyes roll back, and he drops like a wet rag.

"Jesus Christ, Sergeant!" Harless gasps.

"Sorry, Sir," I answer, shaking my hand since I had felt a couple of knuckles crack with the punch.

"Good shot, Chase!" At least Cut admires the action. "Want me to tie him up, too?"

"Yeah, we better. Sorry, Harless, but I'm through taking chances."

"That's all right, Sergeant. I understand. Guess he has a lot of explaining to do."

"Damn right, man," Cut grumbles. "Seems sometimes you don't know people as well as you think, huh, Chase?"

I know exactly what he is actually getting at. _He sure ain't talking just about Micheals. Man, that bastard beat the hell out of 'im. I bet anything, that cheekbone is cracked._

"Sergeant," Harless breaks my thought again, "you said earlier, you sent a message to someone. May I ask whom?"

 _Boy, is he polite all of the sudden._ "Sir, I am not at the liberty to tell you that at this time," I answer equally polite, and Cut snickers. "Let me just say this much, there are some people on the way up here to take care of the matter. According to my calculation, they should arrive at any time."

"Yeah," Cut is still smirking, "betcha Buck's already found 'em."

"Who?" Harless looks confused.

"Buck, my dog," I state matter-of-factly. "I sent him to warn them when we got tangled up with your boys there." I nod toward the group of tied-up agents, receiving a whole lot of angry stares in return. Only Sawyer grins back—understandable, considering _he_ isn't tied.

"It seems, there are several of them that are George's boys instead of mine, doesn't it, Sergeant?" Harless muses thoughtfully.

"Sure does, man," Cut grumbles again. "Damn, do you even know which ones you can trust?"

"Well, to be honest, Gary is the only one I'm sure of right now," Harless admits, indicating Sawyer. "The others? Jesus, I thought we were all on the same side."

"Big mistake, huh?" Cut grins.

#####

Jimmy has paid no kind of attention to our whole conversation. He is watching Micheals like a hawk, even though the guy is tied up and sleeping peacefully at the moment. He hasn't bothered to wipe any of the blood off his face either, but the bear-claws sure are back around his neck.

_Boy, Micheals really fucked up on that point. I think Jimmy can take just about anything, except someone messing with that necklace. I probably oughta check his eye, but he sure don't look like he'd appreciate any company right now. Better leave 'im alone. Just gotta watch, 'cause he is fiddlin' with that damn Bowie, and if Micheals wakes up and starts running his mouth...no tellin' what Jimmy's gonna do._

"Hey, Cut?" I follow my own line of thought.

"Yeah, man?"

"Can I get an honest answer from you about something?"

"Depends, Chase."

"On what?"

"On the question," he smiles crooked.

"Well, I was just wondering...seemed to me, you's surprised too, that Jimmy and Micheals know each other."

"Sure as hell was. And that's the God's-honest truth, if that's what your question is."

"That's it, Cut. So you didn't know either?" I still push the issue.

"Damn it, NO!" he snaps irritated. "But I'm sure dyin' to find out a little more about it. Looks like Jimmy really pissed Micheals off, at one time or another. Think I'll go have a little chat with 'im about it. What you think?"

"I think he ain't much in a mood for that right now. Better wait a while, Cut."

"Perhaps I am able to shed a little light on the matter, Sergeant," Harless breaks in, to our surprise.

"Sir?"

"Thought you didn't know about it either?" Cut squints suspiciously.

"Well," Harless hesitates, "I didn't. But what I gathered from George's remarks...I think I have the situation pretty much figured out."

"Oh, yeah?" Cut squints harder.

"Yes! Just one question...going by your reaction when I mentioned Oklahoma..."

"That's where me and Jimmy's from," Cut admits.

"Thought so. _You_ sure sound like it," Harless continues, and Cut frowns because he is a little touchy when it comes to remarks about his accent. "Anyhow," Harless rubs his chin, "the way I put it together, seems it all has to do with a questionable incident about six years ago, involving agents from our department. You have to understand, the matter was handled pretty hush-hush, so I am not certain of the exact details. But I know it concerned Reservation land, and a conspiracy to open several hundred acres of it for illegal dumping. It really dawned on me, when you said your friend could read lips."

"Huh?" Cut squints confused.

"Well," Harless gets thoughtful, "I always figured it was just a rumor, but apparently it is true. Seems George got in trouble at one time over a videotape from a security camera. You might know that there is no sound on these tapes, just video. But it is possible to interpret what is being said, at least for someone who is very skilled at reading lips."

"Holy shit!" Cut's eyes widen. "Damn, Chase, if he's right...wait a minute..." He gets up and quickly walks over to Chief. "Jimmy?" he lays a hand on his shoulder, and I am surprised when he actually manages to get Chief's attention. "Just one question. Is he the bastard who shot Steve?" Cut asks, dead serious, with a motion toward Micheals.

Jimmy gives him a brusque nod, then goes back to staring.

"Geez," Cut exhales a long breath on the way back over. "That sure explains it."

"Care to fill me in?" I pull up an eyebrow.

"Well, Chase," he squints, "remember that time I called, and told you 'bout Steve getting killed?"

"Sure do."

"Micheals is the one who did it."

"Are you positive?" I ask hard.

"No doubt about it now, man. It all fits. Just took me a little while, and some help from Mister Harless here, to figure it out. Jimmy worked for Steve, right?"

"For what you told me..."

"Yeah! And when Steve come across that tape he showed it to Jimmy, and he could tell what was bein' said."

"And Jimmy ends up turning in Micheals, after the bastard caps Steve," I fill in the next part.

"Right! And Micheals is still pissed, 'cause he ended up in the slammer for it."

"Just one thing wrong, Cut."

"What's that?"

"How the hell did he get out so quick? He said, Jimmy cost him three years of his life. Three years? Sounds like kind of a mild sentence, don't it?"

"Sergeant," Harless breaks in, looking pale, "are you saying that George might be responsible for someone's death?"

"Might be? My ass!" Cut snaps in my place. "Apparently you're still watching _George_ over there through rose-colored glasses. Let me enlighten you a little. Jimmy's brother, Steve, was killed in cold blood. Shot in the back at point-blank range."

"Oh, good Lord!" Harless turns even paler.

"For what I know," Cut continues cold, "there was a meeting set up on that particular day, between Steve and a Government Agent, concerning that damn tape. And only three people knew about it."

"Let me guess," Harless has recovered, "your friend, his brother and George, right?"

"Right!" Cut confirms. "By the way, Jimmy's my cousin."

"Oh, no!" Harless sighs. "But what I don't understand, if George really had anything to do with this whole mess, how did he get out of it? Why wasn't the matter pursued in court?"

"Good question," I agree. "How about we ask him that? Looks like the little love-tap I gave 'im is startin' to wear off."

"Looks like," Cut grins. "Guess we better get Jimmy occupied with somethin' else, before Micheals opens his big mouth and lands himself in more trouble."

"No, shit!" I roll my eyes. "Think you could talk him into cleaning up his face, while Harless and me try to get some answers from Micheals?"

"I'n give it a shot, Chase."

"Excuse me, Sir?" Sawyer interrupts gingerly, squinting at Harless.

"What is it, Gary?"

"Well, Sir, the guys were just wondering what's going on?"

I glance over at the group of agents. Apparently our conversation has taken too long, and they are starting to get impatient.

"Just tell them to sit tight," Harless instructs. "I will explain everything, as soon as I get a few little details straight with Agent Micheals."

"But, Sir..." Sawyer starts to object.

"Damn it, Gary, I have enough trouble on my hands as it is. Don't you turn on me, too."

"I won't, Sir. I was just wondering." He squirms uneasy. "Sir, I don't think Weaver and Lucas have anything to do with it."

"Look, Gary," Harless rubs his forehead, "I would very much like to believe that _none_ of our men have anything to do with what's going on. But I can't afford to take that chance right now. You saw what happened..."

He is interrupted when Micheals lets out a scream. _Shit!_ We haven't been paying attention, and apparently he and Chief got into it. At least that is what it looks like, considering Jimmy has the Bowie knife against Micheals' Adam's apple and a flare of rage on his face.

Cut and I react at the same instant, jumping over there and grabbing a hold of Jimmy's wrist. Good thing too, because it takes both of us to pull his arm back. Chief is breathing hard between clenched teeth, refusing to let go of the knife until Cut twists his hand to a point where he has no choice in the matter. _Damn, does he get a look!_ Then Jimmy pushes to his feet and walks out the door, without any kind of further reaction.

"Jesus Christ the Almighty!" Harless gasps. "What in God's name did you say to him, George?"

Micheals doesn't answer. He is staring blank, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

"Damn, Chase," Cut mutters, "I gotta go after Jimmy..."

"You do that!" I answer hard. "Calm him down, damn it, before we end up with this jerk here dead on our hands."

He gives me a quick nod and hustles out the door.

"Micheals!" I kneel down and shake his shoulders. "Micheals, snap the hell out of it!"

He blinks a couple of times, then looks at me, getting a cynical sneer on his face.

"Let me talk to him, Sergeant. Please?" Harless requests calmly.

 _Too calm for my taste._ "Okay, have at it. But I'm telling you, the first foul word out of his mouth, and I send him back to la-la-land. Got it?"

"Yes!…George?" He kneels down as well, and I move aside a little. "George, listen to me. Shut up and just listen," he barks when Micheals starts to say something. "Now look, man, there are a whole lot of things going on here, and I need some explanations."

"What the fuck are you looking at _me_ for?" Micheals hisses. "You goddamn better cut me loose, Dan, or I swear I'm gonna..."

"Shut it, George!" Harless roars. "Shut it, or I'll turn that Indian loose on you again and..."

"That goddamn son-of-a-bitch," Micheals cuts him off. "Should've blown his fucking brains out when I had the chance. He's nothing but a..."

"Micheals!" I reach for the Llama and point it at his forehead.

"Put the gun away, Sergeant. I'll handle this," Harless growls from between gritted teeth. "George, one more word and I'll forget who you are. Now…" He pushes my gun-hand aside and takes a deep breath, then continues. "I have a couple of questions, and I want some straight answers."

"What do you want to know, Dan?" Micheals appears compliant all of the sudden.

"First of all," Harless squints suspiciously, "what do you know about chemical agents being dumped in this area? And second, what is going on between you and the Indian?"

"First, nothing! And second, not a fucking thing! Now get out of my face!" Micheals snaps derisively, and Harless flinches.

"Look, George," he tries again, "I can't help you, if you are not willing to cooperate."

"I don't need your goddamn help, Dan," Micheals screams, and the veins on his forehead swell. "You want to do a good deed, cut me loose and give me back my gun, so I can..."

"Enough!" Harless yells, and now _he_ looks like he is ready to punch Micheals' lights out. "You leave me no choice, but to turn you over to the authorities, George," he continues calmer. "I am sorry, but if that's the way you want it..."

"You and your goddamn _authorities_ ," Micheals sneers. "Just see how far you get with them. Fucked them once, I can do it again, but this time..." He cuts himself off, apparently realizing that he has already said too much.

"How did you get out of the murder charges?" Harless puts things together quickly.

"Sure would like to know that, wouldn't you, Dan? Why don't you just ask that fucking Injun you are so fond of? I'm sure he would be happy to tell you." He snickers like a mad-man again, then turns his head away from us.

"Jesus Christ, Sergeant!" Harless straightens and I do the same. "I think he has really lost his mind. Look, I have to go talk to my men. Don't worry, I will not turn any of them loose until this matter is resolved. Please trust me! Perhaps you should speak with your friend. Tell him, I promise that George is held accountable for his actions, but explain to him that I cannot allow him to take matters into his own hands. Think you can do that?"

"I'll try, Sir," I promise, a little unconvinced. "But I have to warn you. Keep Micheals quiet, or I don't guarantee for anything."

"Fair enough. I'll do my best."


	27. Day 19 (part 4)

**Day 19-4**

_Geez, what a mess!_ I grab Jimmy's Bowie off the floor, and stick the Llama back behind my belt. Harless steps over toward the agents, and I walk out the door, taking three cans of beer and the MPK with me. _Sure hope Cut got Jimmy back to his senses by now. Man, that was close! That boy definitely got one hell of a temper, but I guess I wouldn't put up with no shit either, from a guy who killed my brother. Wonder what Micheals said to set him off like that? Maybe Cut's found out by now._

The two of them are sitting on one of the rough-hewn benches outside the cabin. Apparently Cut was at least able to talk Chief into cleaning the blood off his face and put a couple of Butterfly Band-Aids across that tear. But he still looks up at me with only one eye open, and that left cheek shines in all kinds of purple and blue colors.

"You alright, Jimmy?" I inquire, unable to think of anything better to say as I hand Chief his Bowie and each of them a beer. "Jimmy, are you okay?" I repeat since there is no response the first time.

"No!" he finally answers curtly.

"What'd you do, man? Just go off and leave them guys in there by themselves?" Cut asks.

"Yeah, Harless wants to talk to his boys. He had a little go-around with Micheals. Them two got really into it."

"Heard that," Cut nods, signing to Jimmy. "So what come out of it?"

"Nothing. Micheals denies everything, and Harless kinda gave up on it."

"Gave up on it?" Cut sounds alarmed. "If he thinks his buddy George didn't do anything...damn, Chase, he'll turn 'em loose and we'll..."

"Don't think we gotta worry about that, Cut," I interrupt him. "Look, Micheals blew it. He started running his mouth, and let it slip that he got away from the authorities once before. Harless put two and two together, and..."

"Wait a minute. What, Jimmy?" Cut breaks in, watching what Chief signs to him.

_Guess we's going kinda fast this time. Gotta be tough to read lips, if you'n see out of just one eye._

"Hey, Chase, Jimmy wants to know what's gonna happen to Micheals."

"That depends, " I answer honestly, and Cut puts it into signs.

"On what?" Chief squints at me.

"On whether _you_ tell me what's going on or not." The remark earns me a flinch from Cut, and a hard squint from Chief. "Look, Jimmy," I draw a deep breath, "Harless wants me to tell you, that he'll make sure Micheals gets what he deserves. But you gotta stay out of it and let the law handle this."

Jimmy drops a corner of his mouth in contempt. "They did. That's why he is here now."

"Okay, I understand that. But _how_ did he manage to get out of it?" I try to speak slow and clear to make sure he gets all of what I am saying.

It seems to work because he answers right away, "Government cover-up!"

"You gotta be kidding me!"

"No!"

"So what happened?"

This time he doesn't answer directly, but gives a couple of quick signs to Cut instead, apparently telling him to fill me in on what he already knows.

"It's like this, Chase," Cut scratches his head, "the thing you said was wrong, is the fact that Micheals got away with murder. Literally! Seems somehow that bullet, forensics dug out of Steve's back, disappeared from the evidence room along with part of that security tape. The only thing left was the other half of the copy Jimmy had, and that was barely enough to get Micheals linked to it at all."

"Damn!"

"Jimmy says, he knows exactly who's in on it, but there ain't no way he'n prove it."

"You mean, he knows who let the evidence disappear?"

"Yeah! Shit, Chase, this gotta stay between the three of us. If they find out _he_ knows, they'd let _him_ disappear. These guys got the longer ends of the string."

"So Harless was right about what was on the tape?"

"Mostly. But like I said, the important part of it disappeared."

"Jimmy, you know what was on that part, too?"

He gives me a serious nod, and Cut adds the details.

"Seems like this thing was about a whole lot more than just illegal dumping on Reservation land, Chase. Apparently they had it all worked out with them chemicals already at that time."

"They were gonna take 'em _there_?"

"Accordin' to that tape, yes. There was all kinds of mention about it."

"Wait a minute. Let's put this thing together here." I rub my forehead. "Micheals is involved in this whole thing from the very beginning. First he plans to dump the chemical agents on the Reservation, and when Steve catches on to it, Micheals shoots 'im. Then the evidence disappears, he gets out of it, and makes new plans, bringing the stuff up here instead. And it would've all worked out too, except for Jimmy showing up."

"Yup, I'd say that just about narrows it down," Cut agrees.

"So, now what?"

"He still gets away with it," Chief answers dryly.

"Not if I have something to say about it, Jimmy," I assure him.

"You have no proof."

"Not yet, but I'll figure out somethin'. Trust me."

Chief doesn't look all too convinced, and neither does Cut. "Damn, Chase," he mutters, "you better watch your back real close, or someone's gonna put a bullet in _it_ too."

"No shit, Cut! But that's what I brought you along for."

"For puttin' a bullet in your back?" he snickers.

"No asshole, for watchin' my back. I owe you _one_ already anyways."

"Nah, I'm just tryin' to even the score a little. Figure you still got about three or four up on me."

"Hell, I didn't know we's keepin' score. But if you put it that way, go get me another beer and see if you'n find somethin' to eat too," I grin.

"Now don't push it, man..."

He gets interrupted, because there is a whole lot of excited barking and yipping coming up the path. And then Buck is in my lap, all one-hundred-sixty pounds of him, his tongue slapping my face, he carries on like a pup.

"Jesus dog! Get off, you're killin' me..." I struggle unsuccessfully against the flow of affection. "Buck, get down, damn it!...Alright, alright, I love you, too! Now quit..."

Cut is laughing on top of his lungs, and Chief seems to consider the scene hilarious, judging by the crooked grin on his face.

"Yo, Chase! Where the hell are you?"

The familiar voice brings me to my feet, Buck hanging on to my neck with his front paws, still licking. I have to use a little persuasive force to finally convince him to let go.

"Right here!" I holler back, short of breath and wiping at the muddy paw-prints on my front. " 'Bout time you got here, LT. How was the trip?"

"Wonderful!" Lieutenant Hughes has a wide grin on his face when we shake hands. "Cut, long time no see. Hi, Jimmy, what the hell happened to your face?"

_Straight to the point as always, huh, LT?_

"So, what's going on up here? No wait, let's get the introductions over with first. Chase, this is General Lancaster, Colonel Wise, and Brian Roberts, he is from the Environmental Protection Agency."

"Gentlemen!" I shake their hands in the order they are introduced, and Cut is signing to Jimmy, apparently spelling out the names.

"Guys," Lieutenant Hughes continues, "this is Sergeant Chase Riggin, Ex-Sergeant Reece Cutler, and the one looking like he just come off the warpath is Jimmy Whitehorse."

Some more handshakes and I am thinking, _Geez LT, you sure got a lot of nerve!_

Chief doesn't seem to resent the remark at all.

"So," Lieutenant Hughes smirks, "you gonna invite us in, or do we just keep the party out here?"

"Well, LT..." I hesitate embarrassed, and Cut comes to my rescue.

"Actually, the camp is a little crowded at the time."

"Huh?"

"Uh, you see, we had a bunch of uninvited guests drop in."

"Excuse me?" General Lancaster gives him a look of non-understanding.

"Oh, boy! Chase, I think maybe _you_ better explain that one."

"Thanks a lot, Cut!" I roll my eyes— _So much for the rescue!_ "Well, Gentlemen, it seems we ran into a little trouble up here. I don't know how far you have been informed what this is all about, but there are nine Government Agents inside this cabin right now. Seven of them nicely tied, and..."

"Wait a second, Sergeant," the General interrupts hard, "did you say _tied_? What the hell are you men doing up here?"

"Sir, I was getting to this part. There is a good explanation..."

"There damn well better be!" General Lancaster snaps and I think, _Oh, Shit!_

"Look, Chase," Lieutenant Hughes mutters seriously, "just make it quick and stick to the facts, okay?"

"Right!" I get tense, but then fill them in as short and as accurate as possible, on what I think they need to know about the last few days. _Boy, this shit sure sounds wild. Going by their faces, they're thinkin' the same thing._

"This is all real interesting, Sergeant," Colonel Wise breaks in, "but what I really want to know is, have you been able to find any of the missing men you were sent up here after?"

 _Oh, shit! That's a part of the story I tried to avoid. How the hell am I gonna explain that one?_ "Yes, Sir," I answer nevertheless, "we found every one of them. They have been brought to a safe place. I did not want them involved in the danger, when our encounter with the agents started." _Damn, Chase, that sure sounded good. Hope they buy all that bull. Just don't start grinning, Cut._

To my relief, he seems to read my mind, keeping a perfectly straight face, and the Colonel gives me an appreciative nod.

"Good thinking, Sergeant," General Lancaster agrees. "Now if you don't mind, I would like a chance to speak to these Government Agents."

I am thinking, _have fun_ , but say, "Yes, Sir!", instead, then grit my teeth, and we follow behind Lancaster, Wise and Roberts.

Cut squints furtively over at me, and I answer, rolling my eyes.

"Chase," Lieutenant Hughes grabs my arm, holding me back a little, "what the hell kinda crap did you just feed 'em there?" he grins.

"Look, I'll explain it to you later. Please just go along with it for right now, LT. We got so much shit going on up here, it's unreal. And if the slightest little thing goes wrong, we'll all end up down the drain."

He gives me a doubtful, but very serious sideways glance, and leaves it at that. "What happened to Jimmy?" he still inquires, however.

"It's a long story, LT. All of it has to do with them chemical agents we found up here. But let me tell you one thing...this guy, Micheals...if anything goes wrong here, I'll personally blow his brains out for 'im."

"Geez, man..." Hughes shakes his head, and our hasty conversation is over as we walk into the cabin.

The General and Colonel Wise are already involved in a conversation with Harless. _Good! Let him try to explain this shit._

Jimmy leans against the wall besides Micheals, staring down at him.

"Keep an eye on 'im Cut," I advise low. "I'm going to talk to that EPA guy for a minute."

He gives me an acknowledging nod, and I step over to Roberts.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Sergeant, I appreciate you coming over. I would like to ask you a few questions."

"Go ahead."

"Thank you. Now, let me get one thing straight first, for what I have heard so far from Lieutenant Hughes, you sent a message to him, saying you found large quantities of chemical agents in this area?" Roberts sounds full of doubt.

"Yes, Sir. Dangerously large quantities," I answer, dead serious.

"Sergeant, are you sure they are what you think?"

"Mister Roberts," I start to get irritated, "I've been in the Military for over ten years now. I have served with the Rangers and the Special Forces, and definitely seen enough of that shit to know what it is."

"I'm sorry, Sergeant, I didn't mean to offend you," he mutters, somewhat embarrassed.

"Ah, it's alright. I probably wouldn't believe it either if someone told me, but we have been there to check it out."

"One question though, if I may?"

"What's that?" I inquire, kind of suspecting what he is going to ask.

"You did not just stumble across this purely by accident, did you?"

 _Pretty smart! But you don't need to know all the details._ "Well," I rub my forehead, "to be honest, no we didn't."

"Thought so."

"But, Sir, if I may say so, it shouldn't matter _how_ we actually found the chemicals. It's more important that something gets done about this. They pose a major threat..."

"I am aware of it, Sergeant," he breaks in. "This is what I am here for. Lieutenant Hughes informed me. We have known each other for quite a while. Evidently he figured I am someone he could trust, even though I work for the Government," Roberts muses with a rueful smile. "Look, Sergeant," he then continues, "I need for you to show me exactly where these chemicals are, so I can see for myself. It is the only way I can get something done about it."

"I understand that, Sir," I reply somber. "Besides, if LT trusts you, it's fine with me."

"Thank you. I appreciate that," he grins. "So when can we go?"

"Well..."

"Sergeant!" Lancaster interrupts before I can answer Roberts.

"General?"

"I overheard the last part of your conversation. If you don't mind, I would like to see these chemicals for myself."

Once again I think, _Oh shit!_ , but answer ,"Yes, Sir!", instead.

"Look, Sergeant," Lancaster continues, apparently noticing my discomfort, "let me just say this, after speaking with Agent Harless, I can assure you this matter will be handled with the utmost amount of caution. Believe me," he pauses with a squint over at Micheals, "I am not one to take kindly to Government Agents double-crossing a military mission..."

"Excuse me, Sir," I break in, "so you've been informed completely of what all went on up here?"

"Yes I have. And I definitely don't like what I heard," he answers hard.

_Thank God! This is going better than expected. Sure glad, LT picked the right guys._

"Uh, Chase," Cut interrupts, then turns to the General. "Sir, Agent Micheals wants to tell you his side of the story," he mutters with a squint at me.

_O-oh! Celebrated too soon!_

"I have heard and seen all I need to," Lancaster gives back cold, and I suppress a sigh of relief. "Tell _Agent_ Micheals to save his story for the court hearing."

"I'll do that," Cut smirks. "Thanks, General!"

"Sergeant," now Colonel Wise comes over, "you said earlier, all the men you were looking for are safe?"

"Yes, Sir," I answer scarcely.

"Good! I am glad to hear this. So where are they?"

"Like I said, Colonel..."

"Yes, yes," he cuts me off quickly, "in a safe place, I know. If you tell me where it is, I would like to go speak with these men."

"Sir," I hesitate, rubbing my chin, "even if I drew you a map, there is no way you could ever find this place."

"Pardon me?" Wise frowns, and I get a couple of rather curious looks from the General and the EPA guy as well.

"May I make a suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"Well, if it's alright with you, my two friends could go get these guys and bring them back here. In the meantime I could show you, General, and you, Mister Roberts, where those chemicals are." I pause, waiting for a reply.

"Sounds good to me," Roberts agrees immediately. "Hobert?" he casually addresses the General.

"I have no objections," Lancaster gives back. "Just one question though, Sergeant?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Why are you so hell-bent on keeping this, as you call it, _safe place_ , a secret?"

"Well, General," I think quickly, "to be honest, that place really saved our hides with the situation up here."

"I see!" Lancaster grins slyly. "And I respect your wish then, Sergeant. Send your two friends to get those men. How far is it?"

"Oh, about seven or eight miles," I reply, with another unnoticeable sigh of relief.

"How far to the place where the chemicals are?" Roberts wants to know.

"Maybe a little more than five miles," I inform him. "We should make it back before them."

"Good! When can we leave?" he inquires.

"Whenever it is to you Gentlemen's convenience."

"Right now sounds good to me...Thomas," Lancaster turns to the Colonel, "if you don't mind, I would like for you to keep things here under control."

"No problem!" Wise gives him a casual salute.

_Boy, them guys sure are laid back about it. Must know each other pretty well, to just drop military standards like that in front of others._

"Sergeant," the General turns back to me, "as soon as you inform your friends..."

"I'm gonna do that right now, Sir, if that's alright with you?" I unwittingly slip back into my 'hillbilly'-accent—something I try to avoid, dealing with higher-ranked officers.

"Fine with me. Have at it," Lancaster answers with a smirk.

"Thank you, General!" This time I salute sharply, then walk over toward Cut and Chief.

"So what's going on, Chase?" I get the greeting from Lieutenant Hughes who is standing beside them.

"Well, LT," I grin, "you sure picked a couple of good ones. Thanks, man."

"Welcome! Thought you might appreciate that. I've known Lancaster and Roberts for years, and Wise seems to be a pretty reasonable guy, too. The General drug him along. So what's the deal?"

"Well," I repeat, with a glance down at Micheals that earns me a spiteful stare, "I'm gonna take Lancaster and the EPA guy up to see the chemicals…Cut," I smirk at him, "I volunteered you and Jimmy to go get the other guys and bring 'em back here."

"Oh, thanks," Cut drawls, but Chief seems to welcome the idea, judging by his smile.

"So what'm I gonna do in the meantime, Chase? Watch your dog?" LT inquires, a little frustrated.

"Nah," I snicker. "Wise is staying here to keep the situation under control. Hell, not like they'n do anything." I grin over at the tied-up agents. "Harless and Sawyer can help him. So if you wanna come along..."

"Chase?" Jimmy breaks in, sounding thoughtful, then signs to Cut.

"He says, Billy could come with us," Cut relates.

"Hmmm..." I scratch my head, thinking that I would like to avoid anyone else finding out about our hairy allies up here.

Chief taps my shoulder. "It's okay!"

"You sure?"

I get an affirmative nod for an answer.

"What you all so secretive about?" LT inquires with a roguish grin.

"Maybe you better find that out for yourself, Bill," Cut grumbles. "You wouldn't believe it if we told you anyways."

_That's for sure. Nobody would._

"Sergeant," General Lancaster interrupts our conversation, "when you are ready..."

"I am, Sir."

"Excellent! Shall we?" He motions with an inviting gesture for Roberts and me.

"After you, General," I reply courteously, showing him out the door. "Oh, and LT..." I turn back for an instant. "Try to keep an open mind."

He doesn't answer, just gives me a curious look.

_You'll find out soon enough._


	28. Day 19 (part 5)

**Day 19-5**

I have no problem finding the way to the area where the chemicals have been dumped. Not only because I have been there once before and made sure to remember all the landmarks I possibly could, but more so because there is evidence that someone has come this way recently. _Footprints!_ I observe, trying not to be obvious about it. Three sets, two made by heavy boots, the other by dress shoes, sort of like... _Micheals'! So I was right._ Apparently only two of the other Agents have been up with him. _I take a one to a million bet, I know which two. Darrel, and the guy he called Terry._

"Sergeant," General Lancaster addresses me from behind, "now that we have a minute to talk..."

"Yes, Sir, I assume you would like to know how we found the chemicals?" I sigh.

"Correct. Care to fill me in?"

"Well..." I hesitate

"Look, Sergeant, you have my word that whatever you tell me will be strictly confidential. I would just like to know how many people actually are involved."

"I understand, General. I'm just concerned for the safety of these folks."

"So there _are_ others?"

"Yes!" I reply scarcely.

"How many?"

"Two, as far as I know, besides us."

"This, of course, does not include the agents allegedly involved in this, correct?"

"Correct!" I remain careful.

"The other two," Lancaster refuses to let up, "Military?"

"Civilians."

Now he exhales a sharp breath, and Roberts does the same.

"Look, General," I start again, but then stop in mid-sentence and mid-stride. _Shit!_ The feeling is back. The weird sensation of being watched. _Damn, Harry, not now! Knocking a General in the head wouldn't be such a good thing._

"Sergeant?" Lancaster says low, glancing around. "What is going on?"

"Oh, nothing," I lie. "Just thought I heard somethin'."

"Well, did you?" Roberts queries, sounding a little anxious.

"Nah!" I shrug, and exhale a furtive breath because the strange feeling is suddenly gone. _Thank God! I'd hate to try and explain that one. Besides, Jimmy ain't here for the translation either. That might've gotten rather complicated._

Another quick glance around the area, and I start walking again.

Lancaster and Roberts follow close behind me.

"Watch your step, Gentlemen," I advise them as we reach the passage between the two boulders.

The path behind the opening seems much clearer this time, and there is definite evidence that someone came through, only a short time ago.

Even Lancaster notices. "It looks like someone has recently been here," he muses, examining a bush where several branches have been more or less hacked off.

"Yes, Sir! And I'm pretty sure I know who," I retort harshly, stopping again.

"Care to tell me, Sergeant?"

"Agent Micheals and two of his guys," I reply without hesitation.

"What makes you so certain?" Roberts inquires nevertheless.

"Simple," I shrug. "There are three sets of footprints, two from boots, the third from dress-shoes. Harless isn't involved, we are pretty sure of that, and unless there is someone else up here, which I seriously doubt..."

"Then that leaves only Micheals and his men," Lancaster fills in the rest.

"Exactly!" I acknowledge.

"One question though, Sergeant," Roberts continues to pry. "How do you intend to prove this?"

"Well," I scratch my head, "you don't know all of the story yet."

"Apparently neither do I, since I was going to ask the same thing." The General raises an eyebrow. "What are we missing here, Sergeant?"

"Well," I repeat, getting a grin from Lancaster, "for what we found out, this thing goes a lot farther back than just five or six years. Apparently Micheals was involved in a conspiracy to dump those same chemicals on an Indian Reservation in Oklahoma. But he got caught and ended up..."

"Wait! Just hold up a second, Sergeant," Lancaster interrupts quickly. "How did you find all this out?"

"You seen my friend's face, Sir, didn't you?" I answer hard.

"Yes, and Agent Harless told me that Micheals beat him."

"Did he tell you _why_ too?"

"No!"

"Let me fill you in then, Sir." I draw a deep breath. "Like I mentioned, Micheals had a plan going to dump the chemicals on Reservation land in Oklahoma. There was a security tape that showed him and someone else talking about it. I'm not sure you noticed, Jimmy is deaf..."

"Yes, I watched him and your other friend communicate in sign-language," Lancaster throws in.

"Right! But Jimmy is also extremely good at reading lips."

"Ah, I understand. The security tape. No sound, just video." The General puts things together quickly. "But how did your friend get involved?"

"Well, Sir," I sigh, "the way we figured by what he and Agent Harless told us, it was Jimmy's brother who accidentally came across that tape. And since Jimmy could make out what was being said, the whole thing blew up. Micheals got busted, but not before he killed Jimmy's brother. Unfortunately though, some of the evidence, including the incriminating part of the tape disappeared, and Micheals got off with only three years..."

"Wait!" Lancaster finally gets another chance to interrupt. "You rattle this whole thing off in one breath, Sergeant. Hold up a minute. You say Micheals killed someone?"

"Yes, General, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"You have any kind of proof for such a serious accusation, Sergeant?"

"Not at this time," I admit, but add, "at least nothing beyond what happened up here so far, and a little slip-up from Micheals himself that hinted to that."

"What did he say?" Roberts wants to know.

"He made a remark to Harless, that he got away from the authorities once before and that he can do it again."

Two more sharply exhaled breaths, and a look of serious concern between Lancaster and Roberts.

"Sergeant," the General then comes back, "let's leave the subject at that for the moment. I'll take your word on it for now."

"I appreciate that, Sir."

"You are welcome. But I am definitely going to take the matter up with _Agent_ Micheals, as soon as we get back," Lancaster grumbles, and I am thinking, _won't do you no good. He ain't gonna talk voluntarily._

"I would also like to speak with your friend, Jimmy, to find out exactly what went on. Do you think this could be arranged, Sergeant? I'm not familiar with sign-language, but perhaps your other friend could interpret?"

 _Great! Bet Cut and Chief gonna be just delighted about that._ "That's a question you will have to ask those two, Sir." I pull myself out of the bind.

"I will. Now we better get on with our trip here. How much further is it?"

"Just a few hundred yards," I inform him and start walking, glad that he doesn't get back on the first subject about how we found the chemicals.

"Oh, good Lord!" Roberts blurts out as soon as he lays eyes on the barrels. "Jesus, Hobert, would you look at that," he gasps, motioning Lancaster closer.

#####

The containers are still there. All of them. Exactly the way we had found them before. I have to admit, realizing that Micheals had been up here, I was quite concerned he might have let some evidence disappear again. But apparently he was so sure of silencing us, he didn't even bother. _Your mistake, George!_

Roberts looks pale. "Sergeant, do you know if this is all of them?"

"To be honest, I don't know for sure. But according to our information, there are about two-hundred drums up here all together."

"Two-hundred? Oh, my God!" he sighs.

"Yes, Sir," I confirm. "As far as I know the other ones are in this same area, but have been covered up by now."

"Sergeant Riggin," Lancaster doesn't sound all too good either, "I owe you an apology..."

"No, you don't, General," I cut him off. "I wouldn't believe it either, if I hadn't seen it."

"Well, I can definitely tell you one thing, Sergeant, there are a few heads going to roll over this. And if I have to personally turn every Government and Military department upside down, to find out who all is in on this." He says it so dead serious, it even gives me the creeps.

"I have seen all I need to see, Sergeant." Roberts' voice has kind of a crack in it.

"So is there anything you can do about it?" I inquire nevertheless.

"You bet there is!" he avows harshly. "This has to be the absolute _worst_ case of environmental endangerment, I have ever seen. It's an outrage!" He is really getting angry now.

"All right, Brian," Lancaster places a hand on Roberts' shoulder, "let's get out of here. You can blow some steam on the way back. I want to have a few words with this so-called Government Agent down there." Saying this, he looks at me, and there is a glow in his eyes that makes me think, _boy, I wouldn't wanna be in Micheals' shoes._

#####

We don't talk much on the way back. Roberts looks so upset, I am afraid to say anything to him, and Lancaster seems to be thinking real hard about something. There is only one question that burns in my mind, and I come out with it at last.

"Sir?" I hesitantly address the General.

"Yes, Sergeant?" he gives me his attention.

"I was just wondering. For all I know, it would take a whole lot to clean up this mess. Figure they'd need to send in a Nuclear-Biological team, to get these chemicals out of here and to a recycling-station."

"You are pretty well informed, Sergeant," Lancaster smiles wry. "That is exactly what it would take."

"Yeah," I drawl thoughtfully, "but who's gonna pay for it?"

"The taxpayer of course," Roberts throws in angry. "It would have been a lot cheaper to dispose of the chemicals correctly to begin with. Now we have one hell of a mess on our hands, and this area is never going to be the same, even _if_ it gets all cleaned up." He turns more irate with every word. "They will have to come in here with heavy equipment, just to get those drums safely into airlock containers, and even _if_ everything goes right there is still a great danger of contamination. Wouldn't be surprised if we have to quarantine this whole area indefinitely."

"Hmmm," I muse, thinking that might actually be a positive outcome of the situation. _If they close this whole area after it is cleaned up, then Harry and them would be safe up here, at least for a few years._

"Sergeant," Lancaster gives me a curious look, "what are you thinking about so hard?"

 _Ooops! Can't tell you that one, General._ "Nothing, Sir. Just wondering how long it would take to clean this place up?" I recover the situation—or hope to do so anyway.

"It will be a while," Roberts replies. "Even if I can get this through the proper channels quickly, there is still a whole mess of bureaucracy involved, I am afraid."

"Just as long as we can put a stop to it at all, Brian," Lancaster grits his teeth. "The Sergeant and his men have done their part, now it is up to us."

"You bet," Roberts agrees, and I kind of swell a little, even if it was just an indirect compliment that Lancaster paid us.

#####

We return to the camp, finding everything in order. The six agents are still tied and under guard by Sawyer. Micheals looks madder'n hell, and Colonel Wise is watching him closely, though involved in a conversation with Harless. Cut, Chief and Lieutenant Hughes have not returned with the other guys yet. General Lancaster and Brian Roberts use the opportunity to have a little talk with Micheals. _Good luck!_ And I decide to get comfortable on the bench outside, with a beer and Buck to keep me company.

"Well, boy," I reach down to scratch his head, "guess we done a good job after all. What you think?" I get a "whoof" of agreement and keep talking low, rather to myself but with the dog listening attentively. "So now we just got three things left to figure out. One, how we gonna make sure Micheals doesn't get away with it again. Two, how we gonna keep all these guys from sayin' anything about Harry and his folks up here. And three, how the hell we gonna explain where they been all this time."

Another "whoof", but that isn't really a very helpful answer.

"Guess I'll wait till Cut and Jimmy get back. Maybe they've come up with an idea by now. Wonder how the General is getting along with Micheals?"

This question is answered right away because Lancaster steps outside at this moment. Judging by the look on his face, he isn't all too happy.

"May I?" He indicates the free space beside me on the bench.

"Certainly!" I scoot over just a little, and he sits down. I can't help a furtive, curious look at him, but hold my question nevertheless.

Lancaster is quiet for a long time, then suddenly shakes his head in frustration. "Sergeant, tell me something, will you?"

"Sir?" I raise an eyebrow at the unexpected opening.

"How does an ignorant son-of-a-bitch like Micheals end up as a Government Agent?"

I don't answer at all. First, because of the straight-to-the-point question, and second, because coming from a General it seems so out of place. I merely stare at him with my mouth open.

He looks over and grins wry. "I apologize, Sergeant. I just could not find a better term to refer to this man."

"No apology necessary, Sir." I finally recover and grin too. "To be honest, I've called him a lot worse than that."

"Wouldn't doubt it. I tried to talk to him, but all I got was a mouthful of cussing and a bunch of lies."

"So he still denies everything?" I ask, slightly worried.

"Yes, but it will not do him much good. Apparently while we were gone, Colonel Wise had a long talk with this other agent. What is his name?"

"Harless?" I help out.

"Yes, Harless. According to the details they discussed, everything you told me is the absolute truth...not that I doubted it or anything," he adds quickly, then continues. "Colonel Wise also informed me, that during this conversation Micheals had another, as you put it, _slip-up_ , more or less admitting to the whole thing."

"Sir," I interrupt again, but he doesn't seem to mind, "one question though..."

"What's that, Sergeant?"

"Well, we weren't quite sure just how many of them other agents are in on it..."

"That is something we will have to put under investigation," he admits honestly. "For now they will all remain tied. Except for Harless and the other one of course."

"Sawyer!" I throw in the name.

"Yes! Whatever! They will be taken off this mountain and placed under maximum security until this matter is completely resolved," he adds sternly, then glances at me again with another thoughtful look. "Sergeant?"

"Yes, Sir?" I squint, anticipating what he is going to say next.

"You never did answer my previous question."

"Which one, General?" I inquire unnecessarily.

"Who else..." He interrupts himself this time, because Buck suddenly takes off in a flash, down the path, yipping and barking. "What is the matter with your dog, Sergeant?" Lancaster gets off the subject.

I suppress a sigh of relief as I answer. "Nothing, Sir. By the way he's acting, that's my friends coming up the path. Buck's got a thing for Lieutenant Hughes' aftershave. I think he'n smell it from a mile away."

"Oh, so that's why..." He doesn't finish, but bursts out laughing instead.

"Sir?"

"Oh, it just explains why Bill received such a ferocious welcome from the dog when we first came up here," he chuckles, and I can't quite suppress a smirk, picturing that scene.

"Sorry, Sir! Buck gets a little carried away with his affection every now and then."

"That's quite all right, Sergeant." Lancaster is still snickering. "I have four dogs at home myself, and when they start in on you..."

 _Damn, he's really a down-to-earth kinda guy. But most of the higher ranks I've dealt with are, if you get talking to 'em. Just that most people worry more about kissin' ass, than seein' a high Officer as a guy who puts his pants on the same way we do._ (Not meaning to be disrespectful, only speaking from personal experience.)


	29. Day 19 (part 6)

**Day 19-6**

The large group of men, Buck leading them with excited barks and jumps, is coming up the path. The first thing I notice is the expression on LT's face. _That's how a kid must look that's come face to face with the real Santa Claus._ He is walking beside his brother Frank, deep into a conversation about something. _No doubt what that is about._

"Hey, Chase," Cut hollers from about three-hundred feet out, and I get up off the bench, as does General Lancaster. "We brought home the lost sons."

"See that," I shout back. "What took you so long?"

"Ah..." He walks up, with a squint at Lancaster and one over to the door where Colonel Wise steps out at the moment. "Just thought we'd take our time. Enjoy the scenery, you know?" Cut gives me a hardly noticeable wink, and I get the meaning.

"Sergeant," Wise steps beside me, gazing at the group of men, "if you don't mind..."

"Thomas," Lancaster breaks in, "just give these guys some time. Let them get a bite to eat and relax a little. You can debrief them later."

 _Thanks, General_ , I think to myself, then say aloud, "Colonel, they have really been through a lot. I'm sure they will be happy to answer all your questions later." A quick look of understanding with Cut. _We have to come up with something real fast._ He gives me another furtive wink. _Seems like he already did_.

"Yo, Chase!" Lieutenant Hughes motions to me, from where he, Jimmy and Frank are standing.

"Excuse me, Gentlemen," I apologize toward Lancaster and Wise, then walk over.

"Chase," LT starts real low, but with a grin, "man, what a trip!" He shakes his head.

"Pretty wild, eh, LT?"

" _Wild_ ain't even the word for it, Chase. Anyways, listen a minute. We come up with a resolution for the problem."

"You have?" I inquire, wondering just which one of the problems he is talking about.

"Yeah! And after what I have seen, man...well, let's just say we can never ever allow any of this to get out."

 _Oh, that problem_ , I think, giving him a nod of agreement.

"Now, here's the scoop. I had a little talk with these guys here before we left. Most of 'em have agreed to keep their mouths shut anyways..."

"Most of them? LT, we can't..."

"Oh, just hear me out, Chase."

"Sorry! Go ahead."

"There's only a couple that needed a little convincing, and I took care of that."

"How?"

"I told 'em," he grins mischievously, "they were all under presidential orders to keep absolutely quiet about this, and if anything ever got out they'd end up in solitary confinement for the rest of their lives, faster'n they could say shit."

"And they bought it?" I ask in amazement.

"Sure they did, Chase," he grins again. "Besides, it wasn't all a lie anyways. I got connections, and Frank helped convince 'em of that."

"Great! That solves one problem anyways," I muse.

"Why? What's the other?" Lieutenant Hughes frowns.

"Well," I rub my forehead, "how we gonna explain where they been all this time?"

"Oh, that ain't no problem either, Chase." Now he is back to grinning. "They just got lost up here, being real confused and disorientated."

"Bull! Nobody's gonna buy that, LT. Fifteen grown men, all runnin' around up here for a year like a bunch of lost puppies? No way!"

"Ah, quit bein' so skeptical, Chase. Trust me. I'll take care of it."

"You gonna feed that story to Lancaster and the Colonel?" I squint.

"Sure!" he declares matter-of-factly. "I have one hell of a way, convincing people of the _truth_."

"I hear that." Now I am grinning too, at last. "Thanks, LT, I owe you one."

"Good! How about a gallon of Wild Turkey?" he snickers.

"You got it, man."

"So, what's next?" He rubs his hands together, looking around.

"Well, the General and that EPA guy 'bout had a fit when I showed 'em those chemicals," I inform him. "Roberts said it might take a while, but he'll make sure it gets taken care of. He's talking about puttin' that whole area here under quarantine."

"That would help," Frank Hughes throws in and grins. "Might have to relocate your camp a little though."

"Ah, I ain't too worried about that damn camp," I smirk. "It's about ready to fall apart anyway. But you're right. If they close the place up, that would definitely help."

"Well," LT shrugs, "we just gotta make sure it happens then."

"Let me guess. You got connections, right?"

"Right!" he answers sly. "One can never have enough," he adds sarcastically.

"Looks like. Now, I just need you to pull one more string," I muse, with a glance at Chief who has quietly watched the whole conversation.

"What's that, Chase?" Lieutenant Hughes inquires, following the direction of my eyes.

"I need you to..." I break in mid-sentence because Jimmy shakes his head, suddenly looking rather upset. _What the...? You readin' my mind, Chief?_

"You need me to what?" Lieutenant Hughes questions nevertheless.

"Never mind, LT. I'll tell you later."

"Alright," he consents, but with a curious squint at Jimmy. "Guess I better go talk to the Brass anyways. Fill 'em in on the little _details_ they need to know." Now he is smirking again.

_Thanks, LT!_

"Chase!" Jimmy pulls me off to the side, with a quick glance over toward Cut who is talking to General Lancaster however and doesn't see it.

 _Guess you're on your own this time, Chief_ , I think, but help out when he hesitates. "Jimmy," I get his attention, "you knew what I was gonna ask Billy?"

He gives me a concerned look, and I continue. "Right! That thing about the missing evidence. Since you know who is responsible, I thought maybe he could pull a few strings and..."

"No!" he interrupts hard.

"Why not?" I press the issue, getting an angry squint in return.

"These people don't care," he finally answers. "They kill anyone..."

"Look, Jimmy," this time I cut him off, "I understand you are worried, but we would have a good chance of nailing Micheals, if we just...what?" I ask irritated, since he is shaking his head again. "Damn it, Jimmy, if you know who is behind it, then we'n take care of the whole thing, instead of letting someone else get by with murder," I snap, barely keeping my voice down.

Apparently Cut finally noticed our little one-sided argument. "What's the problem, guys?" he inquires, stepping beside us.

Chief flashes both of us an irate glare and walks off.

"What the hell was that all about, Chase?" Cut frowns after him.

"Hell, I just tried to get it through to his stubborn skull, that Billy could probably do something about catching the son-of-a-bitch who let that evidence disappear when Steve..."

"Are you nuts?" he almost yells, then quickly lowers his voice. "Damn, Chase, you don't understand."

"No, apparently I don't," I answer, with kind of a sneer.

"Look, man...shit!" He shakes his head in exasperation. "Didn't I tell you before, it's gotta stay between us? If anyone finds out that Jimmy knows who's behind it... Damn, Chase, he's got a wife and a baby to worry about."

"Yeah, but..."

"Oh, _but_ your nose in somethin's ass!" he snaps. "Man, these bastards don't give a fuck _who_ they blow away. He's already gonna have to watch his back, and if Micheals somehow gets off again..."

"I don't think that's gonna happen, Cut," I break in. "I think Wise and Lancaster found out enough to put that son-of-a-bitch away forever."

"Man, I sure hope so," he sighs. "Just do me a favor, and lay off of Jimmy about that shit. He's already worried about tellin' us at all."

"Hell, how's I supposed to know, Cut? I's just tryin' to help," I mutter frustrated.

"I know that," he assures me calmer. "But you gotta understand Jimmy's position too. Hell, _I_ didn't even know about all this until it came out up here."

"And he probably never would've said anything about it if we hadn't pushed so hard, right?"

"Right! That, and he's worried Micheals is gonna get away again."

"Not in this case, Cut."

"I sure hope not, Chase. Now leave it alone, okay?"

"I will. Go tell Jimmy I'm sorry...again!"

"Nah, you tell 'im yourself," he answers dry, then leaves me standing there.

 _Great!_ _And I'm so good at apologies_ , I think, looking around for Chief. He isn't too far away, about twenty yards, leaning against a tree. _I know damn well he's caught the whole conversation, readin' our lips._

I grimace uneasy, but walk over anyways. He turns his head the other way. _Guess I deserve that. Just go ahead and ignore me._ I sigh in frustration and lean up against the tree beside him. _So how am I gonna say this?_ I don't have to.

"Chase," he starts instead, looking over, "I'm sorry."

"Geez," I let out a long breath, " _you_ are sorry? Damn, Jimmy, _I'm_ the one who needs to be sorry. Look, I didn't think. I..."

"Chase," he interrupts me with a rueful smile, "forget about it ."

"Just like that?" I squint embarrassed.

"Yes! Just like that."

"Man!" I say only the one word, meet his eyes, and we grin at each other.

He pushes off the tree, then turns back for a moment, handing me something. "Harry says hello, and this is for you."

 _What the...?_ A strand of hair, dark brown color, about three inches in length.

"From Harry?" I inquire.

"No," he smirks, "from the girl. She says, don't be nervous anymore."

"Geez," I snicker as understanding sets in. _The little one that had hugged me._ I curl the hair around two fingers, and deposit the ring in my wallet. _Just in case I ever need to convince myself that all this actually happened._

#####

Chief and I return to the camp together, getting a questioning look from Cut as we walk up. I have to ignore it though, because Lieutenant Walker steps beside me.

"Sergeant!"

"Yes, Sir?" I turn my attention.

"I just wanted to say thanks." He holds out a hand and I shake it.

"You are welcome, Sir. But I'm not really the one who deserves the credit."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Sergeant," he smiles. "I don't know how you convinced ...well, you know who I'm talking about. How you convinced him to let us go, but..."

"I didn't, Sir," I interrupt him quickly. "That's what I meant with not deserving the credit."

"But then, who?"

"Look, Lieutenant, I couldn't talk our _friend_ into anything, anymore than you could yourself. To be honest, I took one hell of a gamble on the matter, telling you all you could go home before I even had the slightest idea how to break it to _him_."

"You mean..."

"Yeah," I laugh contritely. "I had absolutely nothing to do with it. Jimmy is the one who convinced him, while I was still inside talking to you guys," I admit, with a motion of my thumb over at Chief.

"Well," Walker smirks, "I guess I need to shake his hand too then. But thanks anyways, just for coming to look for us."

"On that you're definitely welcome, Sir." We shake hands once more and salute each other.

Then he turns and walks over to Jimmy.

Lieutenant Hughes lays a hand on my shoulder from behind. "Well, Chase, I guess that's all taken care of."

"What is, LT?" I ask, turning.

"Colonel Wise and I gonna take these guys home."

"You are? Today?" I raise an eyebrow in surprise since this is news to me.

"Yeah," LT grins. "Figure we get 'em off your hands. That cabin is just a little too crowded, and the guys agreed. They can't wait to get out of here. Lancaster thinks it's a good idea too. He called us in some transportation from Lewis. They oughta get in by the time we make it down-town. We gonna set up a vehicle relay station, just outside of Paradise."

"What about Micheals and the other agents?"

"Well, Chase," his grin widens, "I thought I'd leave you that pleasure. You gonna get to be their escort."

"Oh, thanks a lot, LT," I roll my eyes. "Just what I's looking forward to."

"I bet you'll be real happy when I tell you, you gonna enjoy the General's company for another day too."

"I will?"

"Yup!" he smirks. "He wants to make absolutely sure everything goes right. So him and Roberts are staying until you guys get all your stuff together and are ready to head out."

"Wonderful! You sure know how to spoil a party, man. And I thought we'd get rid of that whole bunch, and spend a couple more leisure days up here," I sigh.

"Nah! But I tell you what, Chase, when you get down, stop by Frank's house. Cut said he knows where it's at. I'll be there for at least another week, spend some time with the family while I'm in town. We'll have us a party there. What you think? Sounds good?"

"Sounds great, LT," I finally grin too.

"Just don't forget that bottle of Turkey. Remember, you owe me," LT snickers.

"Right! I better bring two, unless you want me to come without Cut."

"What about me?" Cut inquires, catching the last part of our jest.

"Oh, nothin', " I say, trying to keep a straight face. "LT just invited us to his brother's house, but I's a little worried about bringin' you along."

"Why?" he queries, stepping right into it.

"Well, Cut," I give it my best to sound serious, "every time I take you somewhere, I gotta take you there twice. Once to apologize."

"Huh?" He doesn't get the joke, and neither LT nor I can explain since we both bust out laughing.

"Oh hell, Chase, kiss my Okie ass! You too, Billy!" He turns and walks off, grumbling under his breath.

"Boy," Lieutenant Hughes chuckles, holding on to my shoulder, "he stepped right into that one, Chase."

"Yeah," I snicker. "I got him with that five times by now, and he still don't get it."

"You two haven't changed a bit," LT shakes his head, still laughing, but then he turns serious all of the sudden. "Alright, Chase, listen. I gotta get these guys outa here. All them little _problems_ we talked about are taken care of, and should there be any more, just let me know, okay?"

"I will, and thanks again for your help, LT. We couldn't have done it without you," I answer equally serious, shaking his hand, then saluting.

He returns the gesture, then grins again mischievously. "Oh, and Chase," he lowers his voice to a whisper, "take it easy on the General, will ya?"

"No problem. I promise I'll behave," I snicker, and he turns to gather the other men.


	30. Day 19 (part 7)

**Day 19-7**

The group under the lead of Lieutenant Hughes and Colonel Wise leaves late in the afternoon. Since the released men are all in good shape, they shouldn't have much of a problem making it at least down to the main road before nightfall. From there it is another eight or nine miles into the little town of Paradise—a very fitting name by the way, it is beautiful—where the vehicles will be waiting to take them on to Fort Lewis. 

We get a whole bunch of friendly handshakes, and even more thank-yous from the guys as they ready to depart. Only Perry stands to himself, a grim expression on his face. I'm not sure how far LT's methods of convincing someone of the 'truth' go, but I fear Perry might try to cause a problem later. Well, there is nothing I can do, except hope that LT's connections are really good enough to take care of the matter.

For now I have to think of the problem still on our hands. Seven Government Agents, who need to be escorted _safely_ to the relay station, and from there into a maximum security lock-up. It seems we have the situation well under control, but it is going to be a long night.

Cut and I agree to take turns, relieving Sawyer on his guard, giving him a chance to get some food and rest. Micheals, we don't have to worry about, because Jimmy is back to watching him. _I don't think Chief ever slept at all during the last three days, but neither did I. Cut did though. Maybe I have him take the last watch, and try to doze a little._

We have made our bunks available to Lancaster, Roberts and Harless at their convenience. The tied-up agents are on the floor anyway, and I don't mind sleeping on the ground. Buck makes for a quite comfortable pillow if I need it—and if he decides to come back in sometime tonight. _Guess he figures it's too crowded._

Following the thought, I get kind of a stuffy feeling myself and decide to go stretch out in the hammock for a while. The beer ran out this afternoon. We treated the released men to a long missed luxury, and the looks on their faces were worth more than anything.

I don't remain by myself for long. Chief makes himself comfortable on the large, flat rock beside me. _Now there's quite a surprise!_ I can't help but give him a curious glance. _Wonder what's got into him that he actually let Micheals out of his sight?_

He doesn't acknowledge my presence in any way, just brings out his tobacco pouch and paper, starting to roll a cigarette. I watch, trying not to be too obvious about it, though this is certainly strange. _Sure looks like he's got somethin' else on his mind._

Jimmy pitches the half-rolled cigarette along with the empty pouch into the fire I got going out here, since it is uncomfortably chilly. At his questioning look— _Guess he knows I'm here after all_ —I toss him my last half pack of Doral Menthols, getting a squint in return. _Apparently menthol ain't his kinda taste. Sorry, Chief, it's all I got._

He lights one nevertheless, then flips them back to me.

 _Thanks, Chase!...You're welcome, Chief! Geez, we really are into this conversation now_ , I think, grinning to myself.

We both smoke, while I get more and more curious. _There's gotta be another reason for him to come out here, other than just wantin' to catch some fresh air._ I get several glances like he is expecting me to say something. _Ain't gonna happen, Chief. You wanna talk to me, you gotta start it yourself. But the suspense is sure killin' me._ I am still thinking, and he catches me by surprise when he actually does start.

"Chase!" the usual opening.

"What, Jimmy?" I reply, unsure whether the unsteady light from the fire makes it possible for him to read my lips.

There is a long pause before he continues. Loosening the bear-claws from around his neck, he holds them over toward me. "You need this!" He sounds dead serious.

 _You need this? Not like before, you 'might' need this? What the...?_ I don't respond for quite a while since this caught me completely off guard.

"Chase, please!" He reaches over further, with somewhat of an urgent motion.

"Jimmy," I hesitate to take the necklace, "you mind telling me what this is all about?"

"I can't."

"Why not?" The question earns me the familiar "don't know" sign, making things even more confusing. "What do you want me to do with it?" I finally take the bear-claws from his hand.

"Keep it."

"What?" I almost fall out of the hammock, sitting up so fast. "You gotta be kiddin' me!"

"No!"

"But, Jimmy," I shake my head in disbelieve, "you wouldn't even let me _buy_ them off of you before."

"That was different."

"How? Why?"

Another "don't know" sign in reply, and now he has me completely baffled.

"Jimmy, I can't take these. I know how much they mean to you."

"You have to!" He sounds almost solemn now.

"But..."

"Chase," he cuts me off this time, "please!"

"Are you absolutely sure about this, Jimmy?" I inquire, equally serious now.

"Yes!"

"Alright, but if you change your mind..."

"I won't. And Chase," he smiles faintly, sliding off the rock, "take good care of it."

"I will! Thanks, Chief, I..." No sense in saying anything else. He didn't even get that pathetic thank you, because he already turned and is on his way back to the cabin.

 _Geez! hat really beats all now._ I run the row of ten bear-claws through my fingers, causing the sterling silver fittings to sparkle in the firelight. _I can't accept this. No way in the world, I can accept something like this. What in the hell did he mean, I need 'em? We're done here. We'll be goin' home tomorrow. I gotta talk to Cut about this. It don't make no kinda sense. I know how much that damn necklace means to him....Geez!..._

My thoughts are just going 'AWOL' on me, and I sit there, staring at the bear-claws in my hands. For how long? I have no idea, but it has to be quite a while since the fire is almost out by the time I get myself back together. _I have to talk to Cut about this. Maybe he knows what the hell is going on._ I fasten the bear-claws around my neck— _at least for now_ —and roll out of the hammock.

#####

It is quiet inside the cabin, except for the snores from Harless and Roberts, stretched out on the cots. Lancaster is sitting at the table, playing cards with Cut, using beer can tabs for money.

Jimmy looks up for an instant when I walk in, giving me a solemn look, then goes back to staring at Micheals.

I step over to the table. "Sorry to interrupt. Cut, you got a minute?"

"What's up, Chase?" he inquires, glancing up from the cards in his hand. "See Jimmy really did give you them claws," he says matter-of-factly, then returns his attention to his 'hand' again.

"Wait a minute," I cast a quick look over at Chief, but he is watching Micheals, "you knew he was gonna do this?"

"Yup!" He shrugs nonchalantly and places his wager.

"Damn, Cut, I can't accept this."

"You better!" He regards me with a stern glare. "Look, Chase, you better just say thanks and leave it alone, unless you wanna insult him."

"Yeah, but..." I try to argue.

"Don't _but_ around about it, Chase," he cuts me off . "Just don't even think about sayin' nothin', okay?"

"Well, I guess I ain't got a choice then, do I?" I answer, feeling real uncomfortable.

"Nope! Now leave it alone. Sit down and play a while, get your mind on somethin' else. Here... twenty bucks worth." He pushes a pile of tabs over to me.

"Man..." I finally grab a chair, yet with another glance over at Chief.

"Oh, put up your ante and quit thinkin' so much, Chase," Cut grumbles.

"Alright," I sigh, sitting down. "You mind, Sir?" I inquire toward Lancaster who hasn't said a word during the whole argument.

"Not at all," he grins with an inviting gesture

"What'd you do, Cut? Break all the tabs off the cans in the bin?" I try to get my mind on the game.

"Had to," he grins, shuffling our ten-year-old deck of cards. "Ain't like I brought my piggy-bank up here, you know. Tab's a quarter, we'll pay off later. Five card draw, nothin' wild. Now count 'em, and put up your ante so we'n get on with it."

"Thought you could use some sleep, Cut," I say, not bothering to count the tabs in front of me.

"Nah, I'm on a roll, Chase."

"You can say that again," Lancaster sighs. "Got about half of my paycheck by now."

 _Great! Take a General for all he's worth in a Poker-game._ "Geez, Cut," I laugh, "you just ain't got no kinda respect, do you?"

"Not when it comes to playin' cards, Chase. That's where the ranks don't count, just the straights," he answers dryly, dealing out five cards to each of us.

"Maybe I should've warned you about that, Sir," I grin at Lancaster. "When it comes to Poker, Cut loses any sense of military courtesy."

"Doesn't bother me, as long as it doesn't bother you, Chase," the General shrugs, and I nearly gasp when he calls me by my first name.

"Your bet, Hobert," Cut says casually, and now I _really_ gasp.

"Fifty, and give me two good ones." Lancaster places his wager in form of two tabs, exchanging two cards, and being all cool about it like this was a perfectly normal situation.

"Chase?" Cut squints.

"See your fifty, raise you fifty, and give me one," I answer, staring at the four Kings in my hand, trying hard to keep a straight face.

"Fine! I'll see you and take three." Cut suddenly doesn't sound so cheerful anymore.

Lancaster's turn. "I'll see your fifty and raise another dollar."

My turn. "See that and raise you two, Sir."

Cut's turn—he slams his cards on the table. "Oh, to hell with it. I fold."

"It's up to you and me then, Chase," Lancaster grins. "I'll see your two. What you got?"

"Not much, Sir. Two pairs," I say, placing the five cards in my hand face-up on the table.

"And some nice pairs they are, indeed," Lancaster chuckles and displays his cards.

"Well," I start reaching for the pot, but then take a closer look. "Geez, General," I laugh and shake my head.

He grins wide, and rakes in the winnings for the four Aces showing on his cards.

"Well, if that don't beat all," Cut grumbles. "No wonder I ain't had nothin'. You two kept all the good ones to yourselves."


	31. Day 20

**Day 20**

We continue to play, and I actually manage to forget about the necklace for a while. The light outside slowly turns from black into a smudgy kind of gray, and the people inside the cabin come to life. Jimmy straightens and stretches, never letting an eye off Micheals though. The agents on the floor start squirming uncomfortably. _Bet they're pretty sore by now, sitting there tied-up for so long_. Harless sits up on the cot, as do Sawyer and Roberts on the ones they are on. Micheals hasn't moved at all in the last few hours, he just got the constant staring-match going with Chief. _If looks could kill..._

Lancaster counts the pile of beer can tabs in front of him. "Well, Gentlemen, I come out just about even. Owe you a Dollar and a half, Chase." He gets up with a sigh, glancing around the room.

"Ain't worried about it, Sir. It was fun," I grin, knowing I don't need to count.

"Yeah," Cut thoughtfully weighs his last three tabs in the palm of his hand, "fun while it lasted. Well, at least I ain't gonna go home completely broke," he shrugs, pushing to his feet.

"Ah, don't worry about it, Cut," I smirk, patting his shoulder. "Look, it's all right here." I hold out a whole handful of tabs. "We'n just call it even, and you go get that bottle of Wild Turkey I owe Billy."

"Yeah! _You_ owe him, and _I_ get to pay for it," he grumbles sullenly.

"Well, Cut, that's what they call job-sharing," I tease, getting a grumpy look in return.

"Sergeant," Lancaster is back to Military standards, "how long will it take for you guys to get your gear together?"

 _Well, almost back to standards anyways_. "We can be ready in just a few minutes, Sir. We already packed most of the stuff up yesterday."

"Excellent! Now then, Harless, Roberts, are you Gentlemen ready?"

Two affirmative nods, and another from Sawyer even though nobody asked him.

"Fine!" Lancaster continues. "Agent," now he is looking at Sawyer, "help these others off the floor. We need to re-tie their hands in front so they can walk easier. This path is pretty steep in some places," he instructs, then turns to me again. "Sergeant, I want you and Reece in behind us. Have your weapons ready. At the slightest escape attempt, you have my full permission to fire. Is that clear?" He says it loud enough for everyone to hear him—except Chief of course, but he is looking over, and I know he got it too.

"Yes, Sir!" Cut and I answer simultaneously.

"Good! Where is your dog, Sergeant?" Lancaster glances around the room.

"I figure he's still outside. He hates crowds," I grin, placing my MPK on the table to have it at hand as soon as we are ready to leave.

"I'll go see, Chase," Cut volunteers, leaning his Bullpup against the chair beside him.

Sawyer is just about finished re-tying the six Agents. He steps over to Micheals, and Jimmy moves aside to give him some room.

"He's out there curled up under the bench." Cut returns with the information about Buck, and stops beside Chief, exchanging a few signs with him.

Everything is going smoothly, and I actually relax a little. _Thank God, this is over with_! Almost!

#####

I relax too soon. There is a scream from Sawyer, and a flash of movement, I catch in the corner of my eye. _Shit_! Spinning around and reaching for the MPK is one split-second move, but it simply doesn't happen fast enough. The H&K that is somehow in Micheals' hands goes off, spraying bullets across the room. Cut shoves Roberts out of the way, then hits the floor, rolling clear.

Harless, Lucas and two others of the tied-up agents go down before I am able to return fire, because Chief gets in the way when he tackles Lancaster to the ground. Something slams against my right thigh, but now I am clear to pull the trigger. Micheals still manages to get a couple more rounds off before he collapses. Then it is quiet. Dead quiet!

I am standing there, numb, trying to comprehend what just happened. _How the hell could we fuck up like this?_ I feel something warm trickle down my leg and ignore it, knowing it could be just a flesh-wound since I have no trouble standing up.

Micheals is dead, I can see that. A glance at Harless, he has a hole in his forehead. Lucas is gut-shot and writhing in agony, while the other two agents lay motionless. Roberts is pale as a ghost, and Sawyer doesn't look much better, but other than that both of them seem okay. So does General Lancaster. He is slowly getting back to his feet.

"Chase!" Cut turns my attention. He squats beside Chief, and I don't feel so good all of the sudden.

Jimmy is down on his knees, holding his left hand tightly clutched against his profusely bleeding right arm.

I drop to a knee beside him. "Damn, Jimmy, let me see." I have to force his hand away because he is staring over to where Micheals lays instead of looking at me.

"Just went through his arm, didn't it?" Cut sounds worried.

Jimmy shudders when I turn his arm to get a closer look.

 _Shit!_ "Through his arm and into his side, Cut."

"Damn!"

"Jimmy, look at me…Jimmy!" I try to gain his attention, and finally manage to do so. "Forget about Micheals for a minute. He's dead! Come on, man, stay with me here. You gotta lay down…Damn it, Jimmy!" I get rougher than intended, forcing him to look at me rather than back over at Micheals again.

At last he relaxes a little, gasping for air.

"Damn it, Chase, do something!"

"Shut the fuck up, Cut!" I hiss hard, never taking my eyes off Chief. "Jimmy, lay down!"

"Sergeant?"

"Not now, General!" _Damn it, why don't you all just stay the hell out of the way! He's gonna bleed to death right here on me, if I can't...Shit!_ "Cut!" I yell, when Jimmy collapses into my arms. But at least I can lay him back now. A dirt-floor isn't quite so good, but I have no choice.

"Chase...?" Cut's voice cracks.

"Go find that damn medical kit! Hurry the fuck up, or he ain't gonna make it," I snap at him, slicing the side of Chief's shirt open with my pocket-knife.

He is breathing, I can hear that. Seems the bullet went through his biceps, slammed into the rib-cage, and luckily got stuck there. _Right here. I'n feel it. Bet it bruised that lung, and if it slips...Damn! Ain't no way I'n take care of it up here. Just don't die on me, man. COME ON!_

Then Cut is back, and I rip the medical kit out of his hand. _Shit!_

There isn't much left—a ten-pack of gauze patches, some Band-Aids, and a roll of surgical tape, that is all.

"Cut, get on that radio and call us a helicopter. Move it, man!" I am still yelling, never looking up though, just working feverishly. The gauze and tape is barely enough to slow the bleeding on Chief's arm—at least for a while.

 _I need something...anything...Shit!_ My green Army T-shirt is sweaty, muddy, and anything except suitable. But it is all I can get a hold of at the moment to plug up that hole in Jimmy's side. Pulling it over my head, it tangles up with the bear-claw necklace. Only now I remember. _Oh, God! I'm wearing that damn thing and...Oh, no! This can't be happening!_

Jimmy winces when I press the shirt tightly against his ribs. He opens his eyes, and stares up at me kind of puzzled.

"Chase?" he whispers harshly, and I flinch.

"Man, be still. You gonna be alright. Just don't move." I try to sound convincing, but, judging by his expression, it doesn't work.

He turns his head, glancing around the room over at Micheals, then back at me, and I understand.

"I got 'im, Jimmy. He didn't get away with it this time."

"Everyone...okay?"

"Yeah! Now shut up. I'n never get you to talk when I want you to. Don't need to be doing it now with a bullet in your chest," I answer, getting a crooked grin in return. "Here," I take off the necklace, and place it into his left hand, "hold on to this. You gonna need it!"

He glances down, then back up at me with a smile that sends a cold shiver along my spine.

I have no time to think about it, because Cut hollers at me. "Damn, Chase, get over here a minute." He slams the radio handset. "This fuckin' jerk won't even talk to me."

"Shit! I can't! Just tell 'im..."

"I take care of it, Sergeant." General Lancaster grabs the receiver. "You just worry about your friend."

"Thanks, General!"

Cut kneels down beside me, and we exchange a quick glance. "Man, you sure know how to cause trouble," he says toward Chief, and I know him well enough. It is just his way of not wanting to admit that he is scared to death right now.

I guess Chief isn't fooled either, considering the look he gives him. It turns into a mask of pain however when he draws a deeper breath, and the ensuing cough leaves a trace of blood on his lips.

"Jesus Christ, Chase," Cut hisses, "that bullet hit a lung."

"No, it's stuck between his ribs..."

"Then you gotta get it out," he breaks in. "Before the damn thing slips through or somethin'."

"I can't, Cut, " I give back somber. "Not up here anyways. Got nothin' left to work with."

"Sergeant," General Lancaster bends down, handing me a green pouch, "the Medevac is on the way. Perhaps there is something in here you can use in the meantime. How bad is it?"

"Pretty damn bad, Sir," Cut answers for me since I am checking the contents of the kit.

_Just about everything I'd need—Antiseptic, Field-dressing pack, surgical tweezers, sutures, everything, but..._

"Chase, you _have to_!" Cut urges me.

"Damn it, man, there ain't any kinda anesthetic," I argue.

"Chase..." Jimmy regains my attention. "Combat...Lifesavers Course...remember?" He smiles wearily, giving me another chill.

_Damn! Practice sessions sure are different than the real thing. But there ain't no tellin' how much time that fuckin' helicopter's gonna take._

"It's...okay, Chase," Jimmy reassures me.

"Are you absolutely sure?" I inquire nevertheless.

A slow nod for an answer.

"Alright! Cut, you gonna have to help out. I need hot water, and anything you'n find that resembles a clean towel."

"Got it!" He is on his feet in a heartbeat.

"Jimmy, I have to get you up off the floor."

"Sergeant!" Lancaster steps beside me again, giving me a nod when I look up.

"Thanks!" I don't bother to uphold Military standards, and he doesn't seem to mind.

Jimmy grits his teeth and tenses up, but this is all the reaction we get as we help him off the ground and over to a bunk. _Man, if just that bullet stays put._

Cut returns within moments and hands me a couple of fresh face-towels.

"Hold 'im," I advise scarcely, not criticizing the lack of supplies.

He only responds with a tight nod, then firmly places his hands on Chief's shoulders.

"No!" Jimmy struggles against the restraint in obvious irritation.

"Never mind, Cut," I say. "Let go!"

He complies reluctantly, though without argument.

"Jimmy," I gain his attention after Cut pulls back, "just don't move, okay?"

"I won't," he gives back barely audible, but credible.

Fifteen minutes have passed by now, and there is still no indication of a helicopter coming in. _Damn! I guess I got to._

Chief looks up when I touch his shoulder one more time, and his encouraging nod makes it feel like he is reading my mind.

_Well, here it goes!...Shit, that's stuck in there tight!_

Jimmy is staring straight up at the ceiling, his left hand in a death-grip around the bear-claw necklace. _If he goes into shock, then..._ But other than every muscle in his body tightening up and sweat pouring off his brow, you can't tell. _Just hold on, buddy!...Shit, I can't get a good hold of that thing !... Please!...There!...Got it!_

A sharply exhaled breath from Chief, and then the distinctive chopping sound of Huey rotors outside the cabin. _Now that damn medevac decides to show up._ I hurry, taping a sterile field-dressing compress against Jimmy's side. _They can't land here anyways._

Someone opens the door. I can feel the breeze coming in, but don't bother to look.

"Jimmy, are you okay?"

No response. _He's out!_ But he is breathing easier, and the strong, steady pulse on his neck is a comforting sign.

I let out a sigh of relief, my hands only now starting to shake.

"Chase?" Cut sounds extremely worried.

"He's alright. Just gotta get him out of here and patched up a little better."

"Look, Chase, I..." He hesitates and I understand.

"You go with 'im. I'll see you down there later."

"Thanks, man!"

"It's okay!...Damn, Cut, I'm too old for shit like that."

"Know what you mean. Go sit down, smoke a cigarette. You look like you need it...oh, and Chase," he adds when I get up, "good job, man!"

"Thanks! Here," I toss the bloody bullet over to him, "hold on to the evidence."

The UH-1 Medevac helicopter is hovering above the camp, blowing sheets of rain into a swirling frenzy.

"Sergeant!" General Lancaster walks up beside me, a somber look on his face.

"Sir?" I don't really feel like talking right now.

"I would suggest, you take the ride down with your friend...I take care of things up here," he adds quickly when I pull an eyebrow up in surprise. "Look, Sergeant, I am deeply indebted to you and your men."

"Sir, we just..."

"No, Sergeant! You did more than your duty," he cuts me off with a rueful smile. "I would like to speak with you later, when matters are taken care of. For now, just tell your friend I said thanks. Go, get out of here. I'll take care of your dog if you don't mind, and meet you at the medical center after I get this shit here straightened out."

"Thank you, Sir!" I salute sharply.

"Chase, I gotta go!" Cut hollers from over by the door.

"I'm coming, too. Buck, stay!" I grab my duffel bag off the floor—Cut took his and Chief's along. Another nod toward the General, and a quick one for Roberts.

Buck whines, but sits down when Lancaster takes a hold of his collar.

 _Damn, hurry up with that winch!_ Then the rig is down and I signal " _Go!_ " to the cockpit. _Shit it's cold!_ The helicopter pulls up, and I am soaking wet by the time I get inside—well, at least my pants are since I don't even have a shirt on.

#####

"Little out of uniform, huh, Chase?" I get the greeting from one of the medics.

"Damn, Coleman, I didn't know you's up here," I grin at my old combat-buddy.

"Mean you wouldn't've come up if you had known? Man, d'you do that nice patch-up job here?" he asks, taping Jimmy's wrist to keep the IV needle in place.

"Didn't have much of a choice. Took you guys forever and a day to get here."

"Sorry, Chase," he sounds frustrated.

"Ah, it wasn't meant like that. I'm just a little on the edge."

"Knowin' you, you're more _over_ than on it." At least I got him grinning again. "Looks like you could need a little patchin' up yourself," he says, indicating my bloody pants-leg. "What y'all do? Run into a war down there?"

"Somethin' like that. If you'n spare a wrapper, I'll patch myself up. You just take care of Jimmy for me."

"Looks like you done a pretty good job already," Coleman smirks, working on replacing the bandage on Jimmy's ribs. "What you do? Dig that bullet out with a KA-Bar?"

"Oh, kiss my ass! Think he'll be alright?"

"Yeah! Here." He tosses me a roll of gauze. "Sanner, I got this here under control. Go take care of the Sergeant's leg," Coleman instructs the other medic.

Cut doesn't say a single word during this whole conversation. _Guess his nerves are pretty much shot._

Sanner comes over to help me with my leg. Nothing major, just a groove through the thigh-muscle, but it is still bleeding pretty bad. _Doesn't really matter, I got blood all over me anyways. Look like I just slaughtered a hog._ I glance back over at Jimmy, while Sanner cleans up the notch in my thigh. He is still out, but breathing pretty regular as far as I can tell.

"Coleman, how long's the flight-time?" I inquire.

" 'Bout twenty minutes. We're already halfway there, Chase...Don't worry, I got him stable here, he'll be fine," he adds because I flinch at given time-frame. He turns back to Chief who still has his bloody left hand clinging to the bear-claws.

I don't even think about it when he makes an attempt to get Jimmy's fingers off the necklace.

"Don't...!" is all Cut gets out, but by then Jimmy is already halfway up, grabbing on to Coleman's wrist.

I can't get up because Sanner is in the middle of bandaging my leg. Cut is over there immediately though, pushing Jimmy back down and forcing him to let go of the medic—good thing Chief can't use his right arm or that Bowie might have come into play.

"Shit!" Coleman lands on his rear.

"Everything okay back there?" The inquiry comes from the cockpit.

"Everything's cool! Just fly the fuckin' thing!" Cut hollers back, holding Chief down. "Damn it, relax, Jimmy! He was just gonna clean up your hand. Cool it!" he yells in Jimmy's face, with the result that he at least gets him to lay still again.

Now he is just breathing hard, and looking around with kind of a 'where-the-hell-am-I' expression.

"Look at me, Jimmy!" Cut holds him down with one hand, then signs with the other. "Look at me! It's okay! We're going home."

"Here you go, Sarge!" Sanner is finally finished wrapping my thigh.

"Thanks," I mutter, scooting off my seat and over beside Cut.

"Man," Coleman squints at me, "what the hell was that all about, Chase? What'd I do?"

"Don't worry 'bout it," I answer him. "You didn't know, and I didn't think of it in time. Jimmy is about them bear-claws, like you are about that ring you showed me when we's in Saudi."

"Oh," he muses thoughtfully, glancing at Chief. "I'm sorry!"

"It's alright," Cut now assures him. "Jimmy says he's sorry too…Here, Chase, take this." He tosses me the necklace, and Chief turns his head, looking back at me, then signs something left-handed.

"Says he didn't know you's here, Chase," Cut translates.

" 'Course I am. Gotta make sure these guys do their job right," I give back with a wink at Coleman, and Cut puts it into signs, getting at least a weary smirk out of Chief.

"Yo, Chase," Coleman rubs his ear—a sign that he is embarrassed. "I just thought of somethin'. We're gonna have a little problem."

"With what, damn it?" I snap, thinking, _as if we haven't had enough of them already._

"Well, he ain't got no medical card, does he?" he inquires, indicating Jimmy who went back to sleep.

"No, he don't. He ain't Military. But what's that got to do...Oh, shit! Damn!" I suddenly get the point he is trying to make, and don't like it at all.

"What!" Cut grumbles.

"Man, we _are_ gonna have a problem," I squint. "They gonna give us a whole bunch of hassle down there, 'bout taking care of 'im. You know how them jerks are. You'n come in with a hole in your head, and they won't even look at ya unless you got a damn medical card."

"Shit! I forgot all about that, Chase."

"I did too, Cut."

"So now what?"

"Hell, I don't know. Maybe we'n radio up to the camp and still catch Lancaster. He might be able to put in a word for us."

"Be the least he could do," Cut says hard. "Jimmy saved his ass for 'im."

"Chase," Coleman breaks in, "you gonna have to try and take care of that when we get down. We'll take him over to Emergency. You know where Admissions is?"

"Sure do. Been there a couple of times. That Captain...what's her name? Little short black girl, wears them goofy glasses with the gold-frame..."

"Oh, Meadows? Nah, she ain't there no more," Coleman informs. "Ask for Captain Rowe. Or if he ain't there, Staff Sergeant Kennedy might be able to help you out. He's a pretty good guy. Just do me one favor..."

"What's that?"

"Well, I know you, Chase," he grins ruefully. "Whatever you do, just don't punch nobody's lights out, okay?"

"You mean like that asshole down at Fort Hood, giving my wife a bunch of shit when she had the miscarriage?"

"Yeah," Coleman sighs. "Just keep cool, alright? I'll try to stall 'em until you'n get a hold of that General up there."

"If he hasn't left by the time we get down," I add somber, exchanging a concerned look with Cut.

"Oh, and Chase," Coleman starts again, "you might wanna put some clothes on."

"Might!" I pull up my duffel bag.

"Just wait. We gonna be down in a minute." Coleman motions to the window, where it is now possible to make out the vicinity of Fort Lewis through the fog and low-hanging clouds.

"Alright! Cut, you stay with Jimmy. I'll go try to get this shit straightened out. He got any kinda ID on 'im? I'm gonna need somethin'..."

"In the bag. Just gotta dig through it. Driver's license is in his wallet."

"Sure he won't mind?"

"Nah! Ain't got no money in it anyways, just about fifty pictures of his girl," Cut snickers, even though our situation is anything but cheery.


	32. Day 20 (part 2)

**Day 20-2**

The Huey touches down at Fort Lewis Medical Center, giving me somewhat of a flashback. I came in this way once with a cracked vertebrae, compliments of a water-tank rolling from the back of a 'Deuce-and-a-half'. Ducking through the swirling air-torrents blown up by the rotors, we hustle inside. Cut follows the medics in the direction of the Emergency room. I follow the signs to Admission, dragging mine and Jimmy's bag along, and getting some real weird looks from everyone I pass in the hallway. _Figure I'm quite a sight. Blood all over me, wearing nothing but torn BDU pants, combat boots and a bear-claw necklace._

Stopping at one of the restrooms, I take at least enough time to wash my hands and dig through my duffel bag for a cap, my ID, and a—more or less—clean Army T-shirt. Finding Jimmy's wallet is a little more difficult. _Had to be all the way on the bottom._

I finally reach it, then carelessly stuff everything else back into the bag. Opening Chief's wallet to make sure the driver's license is really in there, I realize Cut was right. Two Dollar bills and a whole bunch of pictures. _Man!...Wow!_ I unwittingly give a whistle through my teeth, getting a closer look. _That woman is a knock-out!_ Big dark eyes, pitch-black hair down to her waist, more curves than the West Virginia Turnpike, and legs like Jamie Lee Curtis. _Damn, Chief, you done good for yourself_ , I think, sticking the wallet into my back-pocket.

More weird looks, until I make it down to the check-in desk.

"Excuse me!" I try to get the attention of the female Lieutenant behind the Computer. _I love being ignored!_ "Excuse me!" I say louder, and she finally decides to at least look at me. "Ma'am," I start quickly, "I need to check a friend of mine in here. He's down at the Emergency room right now with a gunshot wound..."

"Sergeant!" She cuts me off sharply, and I squint, surprised that such a hard voice could come from such a pretty face. "I need date of birth, Social Security number, and medical card."

 _Oh, shit! Here it goes already!_ "Look, Ma'am," I scratch my head, "one of the medics told me to ask for Captain...damn, now I can't remember his name."

"Captain Rowe," she helps out. "He isn't here."

"What about Staff Sergeant Kennedy? Or maybe one of your supervisors?"

"I _am_ the supervisor, Sergeant," she snaps irritated. "Kennedy is on leave. Just give me the medical card and information, Sergeant."

"Ma'am, you don't understand...Shit!" I scan the room for someone—anyone who might be of help, but all I get is more curious gawks. "Where is the closest CQ office, Lieutenant? I need to get to a PRC."

"What for?"

"Oh, for a while!" Now I get angry. "Look, Ma'am, we just come from a combat zone, and my friend got shot, saving a General's ass. He needs to be admitted, and I don't have time to..."

"Sergeant," she jumps up, "first of all, you are out of order. Second, all I asked for was the necessary information, and third, what are you talking about? Combat zone?"

"Damn it, Lieutenant," I cut her off again, almost yelling, but not getting further than that.

"Just wait here!" She suddenly turns and hustles into the office behind her, slamming the door and picking up the phone.

 _Great! Damn, Chase, your temper gets you into more trouble than you'n shake a stick at._ I glance around again, now meeting uncomfortable and some disdainful stares. _I gotta get a hold of Lancaster somehow. Standin' here wastin' time ain't never..._. That is as far as this thought goes.

"Sergeant Riggin," a hard voice says behind me, "you are under arrest!"

 _Shit!_ I spin around and suddenly feel like someone punched me in the stomach.

Two MPs, standing there, grim faced, gun in hand, aiming at my bellybutton.

"Sergeant," the one with the hard voice starts again, "I would suggest you cooperate. Turn around, put your hands on the desk, and spread your legs."

"Corporal, I..."

"Do it now!" the other MP—a Sergeant—yells, raising the barrel of his Beretta into my face.

"Alright, alright!" I exhale a sharp breath, hesitating nevertheless. For a moment the thought of resisting crosses my mind. I still have the Llama stuck behind my belt, and even without the gun I could probably take both of them. _But then what?...Shit!_

"Sergeant," the Corporal grits his teeth, "last warning!" He has a look on his face, like he would really shoot if necessary, and so I finally comply.

_Bet they's already waitin' for me to come in. Bet I's considered AWOL when I didn't get off the mountain. Guess Lancaster didn't even think about clearin' up the situation with Bradford when he called in for the vehicles. Shit! Now what'm I gonna do? I gotta get a hold of someone. Where the fuck's Billy when I need 'im? Maybe he's still up in Paradise at his brother's. Maybe I'n get a phone call... maybe...Shit! I hope Jimmy's alright..._

My mind is spinning in circles, and I grit my teeth, getting searched.

"Nice piece!" the Corporal admires my Llama, confiscating it along with my pocket knife, watch, the Zippo, Jimmy's wallet, my ID, and the maps that are still stuck in my cargo pocket.

I really get tense when he orders me to turn over the bear-claw necklace I am wearing under my shirt.

"Pretty!" He holds it up after I take it off at last—don't have much of a choice—then places it in the box, along with all my other belongings.

_Damn, I hate handcuffs!_

"All right, Sergeant, let's go!" He directs me toward the exit, the MP-Sergeant grabbing a hold of the bags and following in behind us.

I walk in front of the two MPs, out the door and to the waiting Humvee, avoiding any kind of eye-contact with other people.

The Corporal opens the door of the vehicle, then takes the duffel bags, throwing them into the back. "Get in, Sergeant!" he snaps, assisting me up into the cab since my hands are cuffed behind my back. He takes the seat next to me.

The Sergeant is the driver. He starts the vehicle and we pull out.

There is a long moment of silence, then I finally can't stand it anymore. "Look, Corporal," I begin, "is there any way you'n help me? I _got to_ make a phone call..."

"Just be quiet, Sergeant," he barks. "You are in enough trouble as it is. We don't appreciate Soldiers who decide to go AWOL and..."

"I didn't go AWOL, damn it," I yell at him. "It's all a big misunderstanding. That's why I need to make that call and straighten it all out."

"You can tell all that stuff to Sergeant Donnan at the station. He likes to listen to them kind of bleeding-heart stories. Now shut up!" He says it so hard, I just grit my teeth and exhale a sigh of frustration.

The ride to the MP-station takes less than three minutes. Still, it seems to be the longest trip I ever made in my life. I am so furious, if my hands weren't restrained —no telling what I might do. _Why the hell didn't I try to get away? I might have had a chance. Maybe I could...Damn, this is the last thing I needed. I gotta get back to Cut and Jimmy somehow...Shit!_

"Get out!" the Corporal barks, opening the door when the Humvee comes to a stop.

I follow the order, though still trying to come up with a way out of this situation.

"Move!" He directs me toward the entrance to the MP-station, the Sergeant falling in behind us again, carrying the bags.

I step inside, getting a quick look around and somewhat of a flashback. It is not the first time I have been in here, and things haven't changed much, except for the people who work here now. Not one single familiar face in the room. _Damn! I's hoping somebody might be here I still know._

"Sit down!" The Corporal motions me to a chair, then places the box with all my stuff up on the desk. "Where is Donnan?" he inquires from the Private who is busy filing a stack of papers.

"Chow hall!" is the short reply.

"Call over there, and tell him he needs to get back right now. We got that AWOL Sergeant Riggin. Call Bradford too and let him know."

_Damn, I wish he would quit callin' me AWOL. I didn't..._

The door opens again and another MP walks in.

I glance up. _No, don't know him either._

"There you are," the Corporal addresses the guy who just entered. "Brought you a little present," he sneers with a motion of his thumb toward me.

"Oh, yeah?" The other one turns around, giving me a curious but not unfriendly squint.

I wisely decide to keep my mouth shut for the moment. I know from experience that cooperation gets you a lot further a lot faster, and since I had some time to cool down... _Well, let's just wait and see what happens._

The MP—I figure it is Sergeant Donnan—steps over to the desk, and starts to inspect the contents of the box.

"Look, Rick," the Corporal says, "if you got this here under control..."

"Sure! Just go on before the chow gets cold," Donnan answers without looking up. "Alright, let's see what we got here." He keeps talking, more to himself than anyone else. "One Zippo lighter, Old Timer pocket knife, Llama forty-five automatic...man, that's a nice piece! ID, Sergeant Chase Riggin, Timex wristwatch, wallet...Wow! Damn, what a babe!" He flips though the pictures of Jimmy's wife, then lays the wallet aside, not even realizing it doesn't belong to me. "Three topo-maps...wait a minute!" He quickly reaches back into the box, bringing out the bear-claws. "Is this yours, Sergeant?" he inquires with a suspicious squint, holding up the necklace.

"Yes!" I answer scarcely.

"Hmmm." He takes a closer look. "Weird! I saw one just like it once before."

"You did?" I inquire, suddenly a little interested.

"U-huh! Could've swore it was one of a kind. Looked too unique, or better say custom made."

"May I ask _where_ you saw it?" I push the issue.

"Oh, a few years ago, when I's living down in Tulsa," he gives back, thoughtfully turning the necklace over in his hand.

"Tulsa, Oklahoma?" I ask, getting up from the chair.

"Ain't no other Tulsa now is there," he smirks. "The guy who's wearing it was an Indian..."

"Wait a second, Sergeant," I cut him off. "You wouldn't happen to remember his name by any chance, would you?"

"Well," he scratches his head. "Nah, sorry. Just remember the necklace. Had a little problem with it."

"Like what?" I keep on the subject, thinking it seems he is talking about Jimmy.

"Well," he repeats, "tried to get 'im to take it off, and he come after me with a damn Bowie knife, big enough to..."

"Geez!" Now I grin. _He really is talking about Chief. Has to be!_

"Wasn't funny at all, man," he frowns. "Scared the shit outa me!"

"Why the hell did you try to get it off him anyways?" I am still grinning.

"Just policy. Gotta take off all jewelry to go into surgery."

"Surgery?" I get curious once more.

"Yeah! I's an EMT down there, before I joined up. We's on call at the Rodeo, and he got hurt. Pulled that damn white bull. That sucker's crippled more boys than you'n shake a stick at..."

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold on there," I break in. "You say, that guy you're talkin' about was ridin'?"

"Sure was. He's real good at it too. Just bit off a little more than he could chew when he got onto Snuffy. Broke his leg in three places and three or four ribs."

 _Now he got me bumfuzzled. I's sure he's talking about Chief. But him riding Rodeo? Couldn't be!_ "Wait!" I interrupt again. "Do me a favor. Look in that wallet right there." I motion with my head. "Look at the driver's license. See if that's the guy you's talkin' about?"

He picks up Chief's wallet, opening it, and this time disregarding the photographs. "Sure is! James Nathaniel Whitehorse," he reads off the license. "Yeah, that's it! The name sure rings a bell now...but wait a minute," he gives me a hard glare, "how did you get that guy's wallet and that necklace?" he inquires sternly.

"Well, I had his wallet to get 'im checked in over at the med center, and the neckl..."

"Woah!" he cuts me off in mid-sentence. "You's gettin' him checked in? For what?...Damn it, Sergeant, for what?" he repeats hastily when I don't answer right away.

"Gunshot wound! He..."

"Shit!" he breaks in again, turning to the Private behind the desk. "Give me the phone, Larry. Hurry the fuck up!"

"What the...?"

"Shut up a minute!" he snaps at me, dialing, listening, then slamming the receiver down. "Larry, get the Sergeant here checked in. I'll be right back," he yells, already halfway out the door.

"What was that all about?" the Private inquires confused, looking at me.

"Hell, if you don't know, how should I, man?" I answer, getting a real uneasy feeling. _Somethin's wrong here. Something that's got to do with Jimmy. Damn!_

"Come on, Sergeant," the Private breaks my thought. "I gotta take you in and get that paperwork started."

"Yeah," I mutter, not really listening to him. I follow however, when he directs me toward the security door that leads to the holding-cells. I get searched once again, but all I have left to lose is my dog-tags, belt and bootlaces. Then the cuffs come off, and the bars slam shut behind me.

#####

Holding-cells are nothing new to me. When Cut and I were stationed down in Alabama, we made almost a habit of getting bailed out on a Monday morning by our First Sergeant. Haven't been in one for quite a while though, since both of us settled down—at least a little—after getting married and starting families. This is still the longest wait I have ever endured, even though it couldn't be more than ten minutes before the security door opens and Donnan returns.

"Please tell me Jimmy's okay," I mutter, figuring this whole thing had something to do with Chief.

"He is for now."

"What the hell do you mean for now?" I yell. "What the fuck is going on, man? I gotta..."

"Just calm down a minute, Sergeant, and I'll explain it to you," Donnan says calmly.

"Alright!" I try to get a hold of my nerves.

"Look, like I said, he's okay for now, but what I told you before, when I had 'im in my ambulance...man, he's allergic to morphine."

"Shit! They give 'im any?" I throw into the incoherent stack of information.

"Don't think so. They gonna transfer him to Seattle Memorial, and I put a fax through to let the EMTs up there know."

"Man!" I draw a deep breath. "Thanks! Just hope they get it in time."

"Yeah! Sure glad I remembered that though," Donnan lets out a sigh as well.

"How come you knew that anyways?" I squint.

"I found out by accident. Like I told you, I had 'im in my ambulance when he got hurt at that Rodeo. Had 'im on the way to the hospital...Shit! Almost lost 'im too. Shot 'im up with morphine, and he went into full cardiac arrest on me."

"Geez!" Another deep breath.

"Yeah! Good thing we got onto that in time. Man..."

"Damn good thing!" I agree, thinking, _if I hadn't had that damn necklace on me...Maybe there is such a thing as fate after all? Anyways..._ "Look, Sergeant," I try to carefully change the subject, "is there any way you'n get me a phone call?"

"Who'd you need to get a hold of?" he inquires, not sounding all too reluctant.

"Well," I scratch my head, "I figure it's too late by now to call back up to the camp," I muse, rather to myself than Donnan. "Think you'n get me a listing for the area around Paradise? I got a friend who might be able to help me out."

"I'd have to talk it over with General Bradford..."

"Damn, Sergeant," I cut him off, "Bradford thinks I went AWOL. That's why I ended up in all this shit here, and that's why I need to get a hold of my buddy up there to get this mess straightened out. Cut and Jimmy don't even know what..."

"Woah, hold up!" Donnan now interrupts me. " _Who_ did you say?"

"What? Who? Jimmy?"

"No, the other name."

"Cut?"

"Yeah!" He gets excited. "I know a guy, his real name's Reece Cutler..."

"Holy shit! You know 'im?" I almost yell.

"Sure do, man. What, he's here?"

"Yeah!" Now I am grinning. "Well, I figure he went to Seattle with Jimmy, if they transferred him there. He stayed with Jimmy when I went to check 'im in."

"Geez," Donnan snickers, "I ain't seen that boy in years. He a friend of yours too?"

"Sure is. Cut and I go way back, and that's how I met Chief...I mean Jimmy, to begin with."

"Man," Donnan suddenly sounds depressed, "now I feel all bad about lockin' you up."

"Ah, you just gotta do your job," I shrug. "Ain't gonna be here long anyways, if you'd swing it to get me that phone call."

"Alright! Just sit tight a minute, and I'll see what I can do," he replies quickly, and hustles out the door before I can say anything else.

_Man! Talk about coincidence. What a trip! Just hope he'n get something done fast._

It is hard to believe just how long thirty minutes can be—I figure that's about how much time passes before the security-door finally opens again.


	33. Day 20 (part 3)

**Day 20-3**

"Well, well, well, well! Now what kind of a mess are you in this time, Riggin?"

"Oh, my God!" My eyes get real big. "How the hell did you end up here, Sir?" I grin broadly at Lieutenant Colonel Mossburg, my former Battalion Commander, who has walked in together with the Private.

"And a good day to you too, Riggin," he grins back. "Actually that's a question I should be asking _you_."

The Private is just staring at the both of us, his mouth open in total disbelieve.

"Well, Sir, it's a real long story, but I'm sure glad to see you."

"Is that so! And just what makes you think, I'm here to bail you out?" Mossburg inquires, however with a smirk.

"Oh, come on, Sir..."

"Private," he interrupts me, grinning, "do you have any idea, how much trouble this man has already caused me?"

No answer. The Private merely shakes his head, his mouth still open.

"Well, let me tell you a little about this Sergeant Chase Riggin here then," Mossburg says, giving me a furtive wink. "He is probably the most stubborn, pig-headed, insubordinate, loud-mouthed, beer drinking, cussing, trouble making, redneck Hillbilly, you will ever get to meet in your whole life. Now let him out," he rattles off in one single breath. "Private, let him out," he repeats, grinning from ear to ear when there is no response.

"Yes...yes, Sir! Just a moment, Sir!" The Private turns red and hustles out the door.

"Thanks!" I breathe a sigh of relief. "Damn, Sir, I didn't know you thought so highly of me."

"Welcome, and sure I do," he gives back. "So what's all that stuff about you and Cut getting into it with a bunch of Government boys?"

"You already heard about that?" My eyes widen again.

"Bad news travels fast, doesn't it? I just happened to be in Bradford's office when your little MP-buddy called. Imagine my surprise when your name comes up," he says with a little bit of a sneer. "Anyway, as far as what I got out of Bradford, he isn't too happy with you right now. Says you disobeyed direct orders, getting him into all kinds of hot water with some agent..."

"Yeah, but there's a whole lot more to that story, Sir," I throw in.

"Found that out too, Riggin. I thought I'd take a little stroll over here and see what's going on, then I run into a certain Lieutenant Hughes and we get to talking."

"He's already here?"

"Yup! And for what he told me in a hurry, you guys made quite a mess of things."

"Actually we _cleaned up_ quite a mess, Sir," I reply somber. "Or at least we're working on it. You know where LT is at now? He doesn't know all of what happened yet."

"He's trying to get all that paperwork straight, so they let you out of here."

"Great! Hope he..." I stop in mid-sentence when the door opens again.

The Private is back, along with Sergeant Donnan and Lieutenant Hughes.

"Chase," LT sounds concerned, "I just found out about Jimmy. What happened?"

"I'll tell you on the way. We gotta somehow get up to Seattle. That is, if they let me go."

"Sure! I got everything taken care of. Hurry up a little, Private," he snaps since the MP is fumbling with the keys. "Got all your stuff together already. We'n take my Hummer up, and I get a hold of Bradford later."

"Thanks, LT," I say, stepping out of the cell. "And thanks a bunch, Sir!" I salute Lieutenant Colonel Mossburg. "You too, Sergeant. See ya later."

"Take care," Donnan grins. "And tell Reece and Jimmy I said hi. Maybe I'll come down when I get off duty."

We shake hands, and then I am out the door.

#####

The drive to Seattle also seems to take forever, maybe just because my nerves are so far gone, if I have to go through another wait, I am ready to lose it. On top of everything, I am out of cigarettes—smoked the last one this morning, after digging that bullet out of Jimmy's side.

"So what happened, Chase?" Lieutenant Hughes starts since I don't say a word for the first ten miles.

"Well...man, you wouldn't happen to have a smoke on you, would ya?" I ask.

"In the glove-box. Help yourself."

"Thanks!" I pull out the pack of Camels that looks like it has been in there forever and a day. _Don't matter. I'll smoke anything right now._ "Well," I repeat, lighting one of the cigarettes, and start filling him in.

He doesn't interrupt once, just the expression on his face gets harder the longer I talk. "So Micheals is dead," he finally says, long after I finish.

"Yeah," I grumble, "but he got out the easy way."

"How so?"

"Well, he sure deserved more than just a bullet."

"Hmmm," he muses thoughtfully, "tell me somethin', Chase. That little remark you made up there, sayin' you needed me to pull one more string? What was that about?"

"I can't tell you that, LT," I answer hesitantly, not even realizing that my hand is fiddling with the bear-claw necklace I am wearing once again. "Was just somethin' that slipped out and shouldn't have."

"Somethin' to do with Jimmy, right?" he inquires, glancing over at me, but I don't reply. "Look, Chase, I saw his reaction when you said it, and that little discussion afterwards."

"Yeah, and that's why I can't say nothin'. Cut got onto my ass for it already."

"Maybe I ask Jimmy about it myself. Did you really dig that bullet out of 'im?"

"Had to, LT. That damn Huey took too long."

"Man, you sure got more nerve than a bum tooth." He shakes his head. "That why he gave you his necklace?"

"Nah," I hesitate embarrassed, "he gave me that the night before all this shit happened. Don't ask me why, LT. I never got a straight answer out of 'im either."

"Hmmm," he goes again, "sure hope he's alright though. Them civilian doctors...I trust 'em just about as far as I'n throw 'em."

"You an' me both, LT," I agree. "I tried to get 'im checked in at the med center, but..."

"Yeah, I heard," he snickers. "Scared the shit out of the girl at the desk and got arrested."

"Anything you ain't heard yet?" I smirk.

"Yeah, how'd you and Donnan figure out that you both know Cut?"

"Well..." I play with the necklace again and explain what happened.

"Weird!" he muses, then our conversation is over when we pull up at Seattle Memorial Hospital.

#####

**Room 132**

Chief looks up at us when we walk in, and my mouth drops open. Lieutenant Hughes doesn't look much better.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Eating!" Jimmy replies with a smirk.

He sure is! _Damn him! Here I am worrying my ass off, and here he is sitting at the table like nothing ever happened, eating Cheeseburger and French Fries. He even got 'im a beer. Wonder how he got by with that?_

"We'n see that," LT chuckles since I am still staring. "What? Cut call room-service for you or somethin'?"

Another smirk, and Chief shakes his head, motioning us to sit down. He pulls out a plump-full brown bag from behind Cut's duffel bag, and hands it over to LT. "Beer is over there," he points at the small night-stand beside the bed.

"Man, you got some kinda nerve, Jimmy!" I finally get back to my senses. "They catch you with that..."

He gives me a one-shoulder shrug and grins broadly, and I just shake my head, walking over to get a couple beers.

"Where is Cut?" I inquire, returning to the table, and handing LT one of the cans.

Chief is chewing on a mouthful of Fries, but makes a motion with his left hand—the right one is in a sling—like putting a phone receiver to his ear.

"Hey!" Cut walks in right at that moment. "You guys better got me some of that chow left. 'Bout time you showed up, Chase. Anyways, Deanna says hi, Jimmy, and she misses ya. Here!" Cut bends down and gives Chief a kiss on the cheek, almost getting slapped with a burger in return.

Jimmy looks at him like he isn't all 'there'.

"Hell, she said to give you a kiss from 'er," Cut chuckles, then adds more serious, "don't worry, I just told 'er that you's okay, and I'd have you home in a couple of days."

Chief draws a relieved breath, but with a wince and a quick reach for his tightly bandaged ribs.

"You alright?" I squint.

"Looks to me like he's gonna be just fine," Lieutenant Hughes assesses.

"Yeah," Cut snickers, "considerin' he gave that little Korean nurse one hell of a hard time, when she tried to get 'im to put one of them hospital gowns on."

"Can't say's I blame 'im there," LT throws in.

"Looks like he got his way with it too," I muse, since Chief is actually still wearing his own bloody pair of camo-pants. "But I'd still like to know whose idea that was," I continue, indicating the beer can in my hand.

"Mine of course," Cut admits without hesitation. "Had to do somethin', man. That stuff they feed you here makes you sicker than you was comin' in. Besides," he grins roguishly, "that little Korean nurse now really kinda got a thing for Jimmy. She's the one who helped me sneak the stuff in here."

I just shake my head. _What can you say to that!_

"Anyways, Chase," Cut continues, "where the hell have you been so long? We's worried to death."

" _You_ were? Man..."

"Oh, he was a little held up," LT snickers since I don't give no further information.

"Held up?" Cut casts me a quizzical sideways glance.

"Yeah," LT answers for me again, "he had to check out a holding-cell for a while."

"Huh?"

The 'bright' reply gets Cut a squint from me, and the rest of the story from Lieutenant Hughes. "By the way," he adds, "you know a guy by the name of Rick Donnan?"

"Rick...man, I sure do!" Cut gets excited, and Chief gives him a quick left-handed sign. "Yeah! Man, where'd you see him? He's from down in Tulsa..."

"Well, he's here now," I throw in. "He's an MP-Sergeant down on base, and I had the _pleasure_ of gettin' locked up by 'im."

"Bet he enjoyed that."

"More'n I did anyways," I answer dry. "We found out, kinda by accident, that he knows you and Jimmy..."

"Wait a minute," Cut interrupts, "was he the one who put the fax through, 'bout Jimmy being allergic to morphine?"

"Sure was. He remembered it from that Rodeo...by the way," I squint at Chief, "didn't know you's ridin'. How do you work that with the buzzer anyways?"

The—actually way too direct— question earns me a quiet smile and the indifferent remark, "I can count to eight!", from Jimmy. _Great! Ask a stupid question! Guess there's a whole lot I didn't know about you._

"Damn, Chase," Cut gets back to the previous subject, "remind me to shake Rick's hand for that one, 'cause I wouldn't've even thought about it."

"Well, you just might get a chance to do that, Cut. He's supposed to stop by later."

"Geez, it's a small world," he muses.

"You'n say that again. Never guess who come to bail my ass out...besides LT that is."

"Who?"

"The name Mossburg ring a bell, Cut?"

"Moss...holy sheep-shit! He's here too?"

"Yup! Hell of a reunion, huh?"

"See," Lieutenant Hughes snickers, "one can never have enough connections."

"Sure right about that, LT!" Cut and I say it at the same time.


	34. Day 23

**Day 23**

I am standing in the hallway, staring at the sign that reads 'Division Commander' over the closed door beside me. Been there for the last two hours or so, waiting, trying to hear something, getting curious glances from everyone who passes by. Lieutenant Hughes, General Lancaster and Colonel Wise are still inside, talking to General Bradford, and all I can hope for is that they put in a good word for me. Otherwise I will be looking forward to quite a few years at Fort Leavenworth, for disobeying direct orders and more or less going AWOL.

I have had a lot of time to think, and the "what if" question keeps coming back. What if—I had left when I was ordered to do so? What if—I had turned my back on the whole situation up on that mountain? What if—? There is just no "what if" to it, because I would do things over the same way if I had to—well, except without those almost fatal mistakes I had made. Both Jimmy and Cut are okay, but I feel like there were several things I could have done to avoid getting them hurt in the first place. Cut and I had a long argument about it on the way back to Fort Lewis, and he got more than upset, assuring me that neither one of them held me in any way responsible for what happened. _Still..._

"Sergeant Riggin!" My thoughts are interrupted when Lieutenant Hughes opens the door and hollers for me.

"Right here, Lieutenant!" I push off the wall, giving him a hard look in the desperate attempt to guess from his expression how the situation stands. But there is just nothing to read in his face. _Shit! I don't like this. Doesn't look good at all._

LT holds the door, then closes it behind the both of us, taking his seat in front of General Bradford's desk.

I deliberately avoid eye-contact with anyone except him now. "Sergeant Chase Riggin reporting, Sir!" I salute sharply, then stand at attention.

"At ease, Sergeant!" Bradford says hard, never getting up or returning my salute.

 _Oh, boy! Am I in trouble!_ I flinch, taking on a somewhat tense 'at ease' position.

There is so much silence in this room, you could cut it with a knife, and it seems to be dragging on forever. Bradford is looking down, flipping through some papers in front of him, his expression completely unreadable. I do not dare to even as much as glance over at the others, but it sure feels like all three of them are staring holes through my back. _Oh, just come on out and say what you gotta say, man. This is killin' me!_

"Sergeant Riggin!"

I almost startle when Bradford finally addresses me again. "Yes, Sir?"

"Is there anything you wish to say on your behalf?"

"Sir...I..." _Shit! I thought about exactly what to say for the last three hours, and now I can't remember a word of it._

"Yes, Sergeant?" Bradford looks up at me, and there seems to be something like a smirk in his face. But I figure it could only be a hallucination on my part.

"Sir," I try again, "all I would like to say is, that if I had to do things over, I would do them just the same way." _Oh, no! That's the last thing I wanted to say. Now I fucked it up completely. Well, so much for that, Chase. There goes the next ten years of your life._

"Oh, you would?" Now Bradford is really grinning, and I probably don't have a very bright look on my face, especially when LT gives a suppressed snicker behind my back.

"Sergeant," Bradford quickly sounds serious again, "you understand, of course, that your actions will have extreme consequences, not only for yourself, but for the two men who accompanied you on this mission..."

"General!" I interrupt him. _Doesn't matter, I got nothin' left to lose._ "If I may, Sir, I accept full responsibility for my actions, but my friends should in no way be affected by this."

"They were with you," he throws in with a stern look.

"Yes, Sir, but they acted solely according to my orders..."

"Now wait a minute, Sergeant," he cuts me off, "let me get this straight. You _ordered_ these men to stay up there with you, despite being instructed to abandon the mission?"

I don't answer and Bradford continues. "You further _ordered_ them to entrap, restrain and shoot at several agents of the United States Government?"

I still do not respond, just think, _what the hell did they tell this guy anyways?_

"And you further _ordered_ these men to risk their own lives, to save yours and that of General Lancaster?"

I am still thinking, and it takes me a second or two to realize that Bradford's tone of voice has suddenly changed dramatically. "Excuse me?" I squint.

"You heard me, Sergeant," the General gives back. "Did you, or did you not order these men to lay their lives on the line for the success of this mission?"

"No, Sir! I did not!" I finally answer low.

"That's what I thought. Therefore, any charges against you will also affect those two men."

"But General..." I am completely confused now.

"Oh, just let me finish, Sergeant," Bradford is grinning again. "If you would listen a minute, I would tell you that, after careful consideration of the circumstances, I would like to express my deepest appreciation to you and your men."

"Sir?"

"I will also recommend you for immediate promotion to E-7. I will further recommend you for a Silver Star, and both of your friends for the Distinguished Civilian Service Award. Now get out of here, Sergeant. I heard, you have a party waiting for you," Bradford grins, getting up from his chair and saluting.

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!" I salute back, slightly numb at the moment. But then I am out the door and out of the building, faster than you can 'shake-a-stick-at'. _Just in case! He might change his mind._


	35. Day 25

**Day 25**

I found out from Lieutenant Hughes that the released men are all on their way home, after undergoing medical examination and debriefing. He has assured me that there is no reason to worry as far as Perry is concerned. _I sure hope he is right._ General Lancaster has informed us that the surviving agents, involved in the incident at the camp, have been placed under maximum security, pending further investigation. Roberts has left for D.C. on the previous day, with the promise to keep us updated on the situation, concerning the clean-up of the area. He is certain the quarantine will be necessary, and all of us who know the 'real truth' silently hope he is right.

Now I have Buck back, LT has his bottle of Wild Turkey—or better say _had_ , because it is already empty—and Cut, Jimmy and I enjoy an absolutely wonderful time at Frank Hughes' house in Paradise, getting a real home-cooked meal for the first time in weeks. Kelly's older sister, Lorie, is one hell of a good cook, and the whole house is spotless. Kelly himself is 'tickled-to-death', having all of us there, talking about hunting, the Military, guns, Native American rituals—with Jimmy in sign-language—and everything else that comes to his mind. He hasn't shut up for one minute, I think in the last four hours or so, but I somehow enjoy it. I believe he would make a damn good Soldier some day, that is if he outgrows his little 'attitude problem'.

"Well, Chase," LT puts his arm around my shoulder, "guess you guys really did it this time."

"Did what?" I query, not quite getting his point.

"Throwing the whole Government into a total uproar," he smirks.

"Hell, LT, I just hope it's gonna do any good."

"I think it will, Chase," he turns serious. "I think it was high time that somebody had the guts to stand up to these guys."

"Yeah," I muse, "considerin' it took a couple of no-good, party-animal, redneck country boys, and a guy that looks like he just come of the warpath somewhere, to get this shit done."

"Where'd you get all that?" he snickers.

"From you," I give back. "That's your own words, describing Cut, Chief and me."

"So I was wrong. What you want me to say?" he shrugs, grinning from ear to ear.

"Nah, it's alright, LT. We like to keep 'em guessing. Just do me a favor..."

"What's that?"

"Don't let the _truth_ get out. It'll ruin our reputation."

"You got my word on that, Chase," he says, dead serious, but then we look at each other and start laughing.

I always hate saying good-bye, so we keep it short—which doesn't mean that it is any easier. Frank makes us promise to visit again sometime, and this is definitely one promise we intend to keep. Kelly doesn't say much—for once—he just shakes our hands. Lorie looks like she is ready to start crying, but her and Jimmy got an animated conversation going in sign-language—I have not the slightest idea what they are talking about. The three younger brothers are too busy with the last of our MREs we gave them—didn't think anyone could actually enjoy them so-called cookies.

LT takes us back to Seattle late in the evening, and we say our farewell to him at the departure hall, exchanging addresses, and promising to stay in touch this time—it is always good to have connections. Cut is taking the flight to Oklahoma with Jimmy. For one, because he is still worried about him—though he would never openly admit it—and for two, because it gives him a chance to visit with his family down there before returning to Montana. I get Buck checked in, knowing full well he hates these rides in the cargo-hold, but there is nothing I can do—they just don't let hundred-sixty pound Shepherds into economy class.

We have about two hours to kill before departure, and one would think we should use them to talk about the events of the last three weeks. Well, other people probably would, but we are just not like other people. Knowing full well what each one of us is thinking, we avoid even the slightest mention of it. Hunting, fishing, our wives, the 'good ol' times', or even the weather are much better things to talk about.

I am playing with the thought of making another attempt to get Chief to take the necklace back, then decide against it. Maybe I will never completely understand the way he thinks, but the last three weeks taught me one hell of a lesson. My biggest mistake was to underestimate other people. _You live and learn. The hard way, if necessary!_

Our good-bye is even shorter than the one at Frank's house. Just some heartfelt handshakes, "Take care and I'll see ya later!" Then I watch Cut and Jimmy walk up the gangway, not feeling too good all of the sudden. My flight leaves twenty minutes later, and I think it is the longest one I ever took, despite the fact that the one between the States and Germany, where I was stationed for a couple of years, took five times as long. Only when we dock Gate 17 at Charlotte-Douglas International Airport, and I peek out the window, getting a glimpse of Micky and our two kids, I finally start to grin. _Maybe now it is really over with!_


	36. Epilogue

**Six months later**

Micky comes walking into the living-room and hands me a letter, one of the prettiest smiles on her face I have ever seen. "It's from Oklahoma, but it got Cut's name on it."

"Hmmm," I muse, opening the envelope.

There is a picture inside too. A beautiful baby with pitch-black hair and huge dark eyes. I lay the photograph aside for the moment and start reading.

* * *

_Hello, you Old Fart!_ (Cut's usual friendly opening)

_Thought I just check in and see how you're doing. Hope you made it home alright._

_How's Micky and the kids?_

_In case you're wondering, Conny and I decided to move back home. Got me a job with the local Police Department. Jimmy and I throwed the money we got together and bought back the old ranch. I'm gonna get the North side and he's gonna take the spot down by the lake. We'll build us a couple of log homes, already got the blue-prints drawn up._

_By the way, the little sweetheart in the picture is the newest addition to the family._

_Kayla Marie Whitehorse! Pretty, ain't it? Boy, you should see Jimmy! He's strutting around, proud as a peacock, showing her off._

_Anyways, everything is great here, it's good to be home again. Let me hear from you when you get time, OK? Kiss Micky and the kids for me and stay out of trouble._

_Well, gotta go! Take care, Chase! See ya later!_

_Cut_

_P.S. Go retire! You're getting too old for that shit!_

_P.P.S. Jimmy says, take good care of them bear-claws and learn some sign-language, so he can talk to you when we come to visit next year._

* * *

"I will, Cut! I will!"

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: The original (1994) title of this story was 'For the Price of Trust', but back then online publishing was still unheard of, and it never saw the the light of day—with the exception of a few friends who received a copy of the original manuscript, because they were part of the plot** (the not- _entirely_ -fictional characters are based on their personalities...and 'attitudes'! Luckily none of them held that against me and we're still friends).  
>  **This story also has a sequel, with a lot more involvement of 'Harry" and his tribe.**  
>  **So, if you liked this one, let me know and I'll dust off the 1998 manuscript of the second part.**


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